One and the Same
by blacksmokeangel
Summary: Salvation for Taylor Cadence came when two superheroes showed up at her doorstep and recruited her to join their ranks. As the newest threat to the Nine Realms rises, an old enemy returns as their greatest ally, and Taylor finds herself falling head over heels for none other than Loki. This shit just went up a few degrees. Slightly AU. Or maybe more than slightly.
1. Chapter 1

-Third Person

Steve Rogers stood on the front porch of 324 Becker Street and exchanged glances with the billionaire to his right. It was an unassuming little house on a quiet little street in a sleepy, cute little town—normal and suburban. Driving through in Tony's flashy, thousand-dollar sports car, Steve had taken note of the family-owned businesses lining the streets, all standing since the town had been built, no doubt.

The house they were visiting, home to one Taylor Jessica Cadence, seemed "quaint" as Tony had put it. Of course, he'd followed this up with a knowing look and made a remark about quaint houses being "the ones you have to watch out for". Steve wasn't quite sure what the genius meant by that. The two story house looked like it was in good health. The long front porch could probably use a new coat of paint, and the shutters needed some repairs, but that wasn't so bad. The light blue paint covering the façade and the joyful flowerbeds of pansies certainly didn't seem sinister to the super soldier. It seemed…normal.

That is, of course, before Steve actually ascended the wooden stairs and stood awkwardly at the door as the sounds of shouting reached his ears. He hesitated to knock for a moment, not quite sure what was making him anxious, but he swallowed it back when he heard something shatter inside. Time to break this up before someone got hurt—if someone wasn't already.

As soon as his knuckles began rapping on the white door, there was an eerie silence from inside the house, followed by faint shuffling, and then the sound of the door unlocking. Steve shot Tony a sideways look. This was not what he'd been expecting when Fury sent them to go recruit a possibly new member of the Avengers team.

"Hello. Is there something we can help you with?"

The slim blonde woman that opened the door offered them a pristine white smile, one that was a little too cheerful. Her cheeks were flushed (like she'd just been screaming) and she was breathing just slightly above average. Most strange was that her features showed no recognition for the super soldier or the billionaire superhero that had saved New York two years ago. Steve fought for a moment to keep his facial expression pleasant, but Tony had no problem BS-ing his was through it.

"Hi, we're with the census," he began before Steve abruptly cut him off.

"We'd like to speak with Taylor Cadence. Is she here?"

The woman looked stunned for a moment before that eerily bubbly expression returned.

"Did she set something _else_ on fire?" the woman's voice was surprisingly venomous.

"Uh, no ma'am," Steve replied, still making a valiant effort to hide his confusion and discomfort.

"We have a business opportunity to talk to her about," Tony filled in vaguely, "Could we come in? I love what you've done with the place."

The woman's smile seemed to plaster itself to her face.

"Sure," she trilled, "please come in."

The woman stepped back, allowed them through the front door and into the hallway. It felt almost claustrophobic to Steve, whose shoulders very nearly brushed both walls. There were pictures lined up on either side. A young girl with extremely dark hair and bright blue eyes was smiling out of the frames next to an older, blond boy with brown eyes. Every once in a while, a man with brown hair would appear, but the woman that had opened the front door was conspicuously missing.

"Taylor," the woman called as Steve and Tony left the entry hall for the living room, "there are two men here for you."

"Is it the cops?" another feminine voice, with just a slight southern accent, returned hopefully from a separate hallway to the right.

"Don't be silly," the blonde replied, "they said they're here to offer you a business opportunity."

A groan followed this new information, and then the sound of footsteps. A young woman appeared from the hallway, pressing a bloodied cloth to her head. It was the girl from the SHIELD file, as well as a grown version of the little girl in photos in the entry hall. Her eyes were the same startling azure and her hair remained so dark it was nearly blue.

"Guys, now is not…" she trailed off when she saw the two superheroes standing in her living room, "a good time…"

"Actually, now seems like a great time," Tony said pointedly.

The cloth had fallen from her head, revealing a cut, about an inch long, on her forehead that almost immediately began oozing blood. Steve suddenly understood what Tony had meant about watching out for "quaint" houses. A sudden swell of anger threatened to choke him, seeing the lazy stream of crimson.

"You should sit down," Steve said quickly, approaching her carefully, always prepared to help, "and put that cloth back."

Taylor swiftly compressed the cloth against her head again and settled on the couch. Steve noticed she seemed a little shaky, but better than he'd expect considering what he knew must have just happened. Did it happen often, or was this an unusual occurrence.

"What happened here?" he demanded of the blond woman while Tony began drifting to their new recruit.

"Hey, short stack, mind telling me where the bathroom is?" he asked Taylor.

"It's the first door on the left, past the stairs," she directed.

"Oh, Taylor? She's so clumsy. She just fell and hit her head is all," the light-haired woman lied.

"Brandy, they're superheroes, stop," Taylor called from the couch, before turning to Steve, "she threw a mug and it shattered near my head. One of the shards cut me up. I'm fine, though."

Taylor's voice was devoid of any emotion, flat, like she was unenthusiastically repeating a well-rehearsed line. Her expression was serious, almost daring him to pity her. Steve felt some pity, yes, but he was mostly just angry. How could they do that to her? What sort of people did that to their own family?

"Clearly," he replied skeptically, making Taylor look away.

At that moment, Tony reappeared, a wad of first aid supplies in one hand. Steve had never felt so relieved to see the genius. He could set anyone at ease with a few well-placed remarks and his cavalier grin.

"I've always liked playing doctor," the billionaire remarked wittily, kneeling down in front of the younger woman in his hundred-dollar suit.

Sometimes, Tony still surprised Steve with how decent he could be. It was a surprisingly kind gesture; Taylor certainly thought so as she blinked uncomprehendingly down at the man while he fiddled with the cap to the Neosporin.

"Miss Cadence," Steve addressed her, moving into her line of sight so that she could see him without turning her head.

She watched him expectantly, brows drawn together slightly in question.

"We're here on behalf of SHIELD," he started.

"SHIELD?" she inquired.

"It's basically just a big secret government organization for spies and stuff," Tony interjected good-naturedly, as explanation.

"Oh, I see," she replied sensibly, "you were saying?"

"Well, SHIELD has been aware of your abilities for quite some time. Now that you're eighteen, we'd like to offer you a position on the Avengers team, ma'am."

Her eyes widened significantly as she looked between the two men in astonishment. Hopefully she didn't go into shock.

"Did your super-secret organization fail to mention that I can't control my condition?" she questioned, "Or that I have no training or anything like that?"

Tony gently pulled her hand from her face to begin patching up the cut, and she allowed him to, if a little hesitantly. Steve breathed a sigh of relief that she was at least willing to accept help. Maybe there was something they could do for her after all.

"That's not a problem. We can train you to use and control your powers and you can attend college too. There are dozens of divisions in SHIELD, I'm sure we can find you an internship somewhere."

She hesitated, opening her mouth to say something before there was suddenly a crashing sound and the blond boy from the pictures in the hall stumbled in, morbidly drunk. Taylor frowned, as he squinted blearily at her for a moment and pointed.

"You…are a freak. You should be…with freaks," he mumbled almost incoherently.

"My brother Kyle, everyone," she sighed, gesturing to the inebriated man.

"Adopted," he corrected, "you…were adopted."

With that, he very nearly crawled his way to the kitchen, likely for another drink. Looking back at Taylor, it was very clear that she'd made a decision.

"I'd like to join the team."

* * *

*ONE YEAR LATER*

Taylor was sitting in the living room, a forgotten movie on FX playing in the background while she worked on something for class. She was bent over whatever she was writing, legs crossed as she manically scribbled, referring to her notes every once in a while along the way. Her expression was determined and focused as she nibbled absently on her lip, studiously working as always.

Living with the Avengers had become a blessing. They didn't yell at her, didn't call her names (at least not seriously, they were always joking), and, best of all, they weren't afraid of her. All of them were exceedingly kind—especially in the beginning.

They'd offered her a room in Stark Tower; Pepper had given her the grand tour and introduced her to everyone. Even Natasha Romanoff, who'd initially come off as a little cold, had been extremely patient and easy-going on her. A couple days after joining them, as Taylor had still been adjusting to people actually smiling at her, they'd thrown her a "welcome to the team" party and she'd promptly burst into tears in front of everyone.

About a year later, Taylor had finally settled in and she really felt like part of the team. That "new girl" feeling had finally worn off and she was making encouraging progress in her training with Natasha and Clint. Doctor Banner (Bruce, he insisted she call him) and Tony had also been a huge help in that department. They'd been developing fireproof clothing, armor, and tech for her, as well as helping to explain how her powers worked so that she could get a better handle on them (she didn't just control _fire_ , she could control other forms of energy too).

Really, life with the Avengers was pretty close to perfect. Not everyone was always around, but usually someone was present in the Tower and they were usually willing to hang out with her. Tony and Bruce were around the most, and she often found herself in their lab while she worked on assignments or whenever she wanted company. She spent a lot of time with Clint and Natasha as well, since they were teaching her combat training and whatnot.

Steve didn't have an apartment in Brooklyn, so he too stayed in Stark Tower, but he was exceptionally busier than the others. When he wasn't on missions or searching for his lost friend, Bucky, he was hanging around the tower and they'd spent many a night watching movies together while he got caught up with the times. As for Thor, she'd yet to meet him, as he still remained in Asgard.

This was one of the quieter nights around the Tower. Tony and Bruce were down in the labs as far as she knew, Pepper was at a business meeting in California, Natasha was on a mission with Steve, and Clint was visiting his "girlfriend", leaving her to work in peace. It wasn't that she never got time to herself—she did, the others usually respected her need to homework—but other Avengers easily distracted her with her antics and she had finals coming up.

"Oh Tay," Tony suddenly sang from the other side of the room.

The girl held up a finger, scrawling something down quickly before glancing up at him, not even pausing at his odd appearance. He had a ridiculous number of hairclips in his hair. The gel had obviously worn off and in the middle of equations, he probably hadn't wanted to fix it, so he'd (yet again) stolen Taylor's hairclips and barrettes to pin the dark mess back.

"What's up?"

Judging from his clothes, which he'd yet to change, it had probably been a solid twenty-four hours or so since he'd last slept, which wasn't even close to being a record breaker. He'd been on a roll in the lab and hadn't been able to find a good place to pause for a while. Even so, he had something planned for their youngest team member and he wouldn't miss it for the world.

Despite her youth, Taylor fit in well with the team. The first six months, she'd been quiet and reserved, getting an idea of how the team operated and where she fit in with the close-knit group of heroes. The last eight or nine years she'd spent with her family had really taken its toll on her, leaving her with countless nightmares and a serious skittish streak. It was hard for her to begin trusting the Avengers, even if they were superheroes.

Before too long though, she'd begun opening up—showing up in the labs more often, eating more meals with the group, cracking jokes during training sessions or during casual conversation. Everyone on the team had grown close to her in the past several months and now they couldn't imagine the team without her. She had a naturally kind, vibrant personality—feisty, but not badly tempered.

"Come to the kitchen with me," the billionaire invited, nodding in the direction of food.

"Tony, I've got this review packet to finish," she started, "and I've got a finals—"

"Tay," he interrupted her, "I know for a fact that you've been working your ass off. You're ready. Besides, you're only human—you need to take a break and eat and all that. Come get a snack with me."

Even though she groaned melodramatically, there was a smile on her face as she shoved her work to the side and stood. She stretched, enjoying the feeling of tight muscles pulling and loosening, and then followed the man she'd come to think of as a real older brother (or maybe an awesome uncle) to the kitchen. She was not prepared for all of the Avengers, plus Pepper, to be waiting there for her, a huge cake settled on the counter beside them.

"Happy birthday!" they all chorused together.

She laughed in delight and surprise, blinking away happy tears that threatened to spill yet again. They still sometimes surprised her with how kind they could be. She had made no mention of her birthday—in fact she'd pretty much forgotten about it up until now—but they'd still done something for her anyway.

"You guys are the best," she giggled, looking around at the balloons and cake with a huge grin.

"Before you blow out the candles, we have something to tell you Taylor," Natasha said.

The brunette looked at her curiously.

"It's official. SHIELD has cleared you for missions and everything. You can now start working as an Avenger."

Everyone cheered.


	2. Chapter 2

*FOUR YEARS AFTER JOINING THE AVENGERS*

Taylor swore as she was slammed onto the floor—again. She'd been an Avenger for three years now, lost count of how many missions she'd been on, been fully integrated into the team, and still, _still_ Bucky Barnes kicked her ass like nobody else could. In fact, the smug bastard was grinning down at her cheekily at that very moment, while she glared at the ceiling in frustration as they finished yet another round of sparring.

"Ah, c'mon doll, you _almost_ had me that time," he chuckled.

"Oh sure," she snorted, accepting the hand he extended her, "and I just so happen to _love_ cold weather as well."

He laughed at her dry humor, completely used to it after two years. The day Taylor Cadence didn't have a witty comeback to some joke or tease was the day the world would end, Bucky was sure of it. The girl was kind and gentle, but she had a fiery personality beneath the sweet exterior (it suited her, he supposed, with her powers and all) and he was lucky enough to be one of the few that got to see it.

After almost two months of avoiding SHIELD, HYDRA, and Steve, Bucky had finally recovered over half his memories and his "Winter Soldier" incidents had become less frequent. In light of this, he'd returned to New York to seek out his long lost friend and hopefully get the last of the help he needed. Of course, he'd discovered much more than help upon his semi-triumphant return.

Once the initial shock had worn off and SHIELD had released Bucky from custody (it only lasted a couple weeks), Tony Stark had offered the ex-HYDRA agent a place on the team and a bed to sleep in. Within the first couple days or so, Bucky had met Taylor. She was the one most often around the tower, since she had college to focus on, apart from missions.

At first, their friendship had been rocky. She'd still been rather shy and timid around most people, not just him, although he had scared her once (she'd accidentally snuck up on him and he'd reacted on instinct). Bucky, for his part, had been concerned he'd relapse into "Winter Soldier" mode in the new place, with the new people. After a several movie nights with Steve chaperoning as a buffer, and a couple quiet days spent in each other's company, they'd become fast friends.

It helped that she was safe from him if he did happen to relapse for some reason or another. Her powers made her skin so hot no one could touch her, and even if he managed to get his hands on a weapon, it would melt on contact. Apart from being virtually untouchable in an emergency, they shared a similar past—or at least an understanding of one another. Taylor may not have been experimented on and put in a freezer for months to years on end, but she knew what it was like to be abused and treated like a monster; she could empathize with self-loathing and numbness to everything.

Now the two were perfectly comfortable in each other's company. He wasn't interested in her romantically—nor her towards him, even though they were often teased by the others—since he was still hesitant at the thought of getting _that_ intimate with anyone, but they spent a lot of their time together. He thought of her more like a friend/sister—like Steve. Actually, almost all of the Avengers saw Taylor that way.

"One more round?" he asked.

"Oh, why not?" she sighed dramatically, crossing to the other side of the matt-ring, "It's not like I don't have enough bruises already."

Taylor was a far cry from her eighteen-year-old self, but damn if a good ass-whooping didn't remind her to stay humble. No, she couldn't quite beat Natasha still, although now they tied more often than they didn't, and Clint was nearly the same, but Bucky never failed to hand Taylor her own ass on a silver platter with a huge self-satisfied grin ten times out of ten. They were ridiculously competitive, and he, unfortunately, had way more experience (and advantages) than her. She took the beating like a good sport though, and they always left the gym with smiles on their faces.

"So what's for dinner tonight, anyway?" Bucky questioned as the elevator took them up after their work out session.

Most nights Taylor was the one to cook, so long as she was home. She always made enough for everyone—sometimes they had leftovers for days, with how much everyone ate—and it was always delicious too. Bucky would loiter around the kitchen, sometimes helping, but mostly "taste-testing" the meal while she made it.

They didn't get to do this all the time; they both had missions to complete, and she sometimes was too weighed down with assignments (well not anymore, as she'd finally graduated the day before) to do much other than scarf down whatever they happened to have on hand. When they both happened to be home though, they never failed to get at least one sparring match in and a movie night. He was just as behind in modern pop-culture as Steve, after all.

"Tony said something about going out, since I just graduated and all," she explained, running a hand through her just-washed hair, "I hope he doesn't go overboard."

"Who? Stark?" Bucky joked, "That's not like him at all."

Sure enough, when they vacated the elevator and headed for the kitchen, Tony ambushed her with a hug. He must have come up for air long enough to realize she'd graduated. It hadn't been a big deal—it wasn't like she'd been attending an actual college anyway. A SHIELD agent had handed her a diploma with a polite "congrats" and that had been that.

"My baby's graduated," the billionaire mock-sobbed against her shoulder.

"Oh my god, Tony, I'm not in fifth grade. It's no big deal," she griped, but there was a grin on her face anyway as she patted his back.

Bucky continued past them, mouthing "overboard" at her over his shoulder and snickering like an idiot.

"What do you mean 'no big deal'?!" Tony cried in outrage, grabbing her shoulders before she could respond to her friend, "It's not every day that the youngest Avenger _ever_ graduates with degrees—plural—in thermonuclear science and nuclear engineering in _just four_ years."

Okay, so she'd admit he was right about that, but all that meant to her was that she had pretty much no life—which was somewhat true. The first couple years in Stark Tower, she'd just ducked her head and focused on work to avoid…everything, so she'd gotten ahead in her studies. It wasn't like she was going to a regular college or attending normal classes; she set the pace for her own studies, so when she'd had nightmares, she'd worked. Besides that, she had access to the greatest minds science had to offer (especially in her field) and she already had a leg up, with her powers and all.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but Tony's right for once, Taylor. You should be over the moon."

She grinned at the man that had become somewhat of a father figure to her—Bruce Banner. He wasn't quite like her father, though. For one, he wasn't absent all the time. For another, he didn't tell her what to do or how to act or anything like that. He did, however, give her advice and support whenever she needed it, and he was a lot like her in that their "conditions" were dependent on their ability to control their emotions. Sure, one of them turned into an enormous green rage monster and the other combusted the nearest flammable objects into inextinguishable pyres, but hey, to-may-to, to-mah-to.

"Well, I'm happy and all, but it's more of just a formality now, since I've been interning and researching and whatnot for a couple years now," she explained sheepishly.

"Hush Tay," Tony interrupted holding up a hand, "This calls for celebration! What country would you like to go to for dinner? We could go for authentic shwarma, or maybe Italian? You love Italian, don't you, Tay?"

She laughed and shook her head. Four years around this man she still wasn't exactly used to his extravagancy. For her 21st birthday he'd taken the entire team to California for a fancy dinner at some high society restaurant and then they'd gone on a wine tour. It was sweet though, that he always went overboard paying for things she actually _liked_ doing or places she _enjoyed_ visiting rather than just anything that sounded like a good time to him.

"Give the lady some breathing room, Stark," Steve said as he entered the scene, "how's she supposed to answer your questions if you don't shut up to hear her?"

Taylor broke into a fit of giggles at Tony's expression and took the opportunity to snitch a bottle of water and a granola bar from the kitchen. What would she choose for dinner though? There was no talking Tony out of this now that he'd decided she had to have a celebration party. She knew for a fact Pepper was coming; she'd called the day before and congratulated Taylor before promising they'd have a party or something. Natasha and Clint weren't on assignment for once, and it seemed the only person that was missing was Thor, although Taylor didn't really expect him to come, and didn't hold it against him that he couldn't.

She'd finally met Thor in her second year with the Avengers, and the man was not only very kind, but also very fraternal. Like everyone else, he'd taken to her quickly, delighting in the small, young female that had joined their team of superheroes. At first he'd been a little skeptical, though perfectly friendly, until he went on a mission with her and was thoroughly impressed with her skills. The rest was history. He was the most brotherly of all the Avengers, and she really needed a big brother figure like him.

The crack of thunder outside caught everyone's attention abruptly, cutting off all conversation. It had been sunny all day—the forecast called for clear skies and a little wind, but not enough to blow in a storm like that. A smile curled her lips up. Maybe Thor would join them after all?

A sudden flash of lightening on the balcony answered that question as a shadowy figure began towards them. Scratch that—two. One of the silhouettes was definitely Thor. The flowing cape, broad shoulders, and hammer gave it away. The second one…too tall and masculine to be Jane. He'd told Taylor dozens of stories about Asgard; maybe he'd brought one of his friends.

"My friends," Thor greeted them, "I have returned."

"Really? We hadn't noticed," Tony remarked wryly.

"Welcome back," Taylor chimed, "we were just deciding where to go for dinner."

"Is there a celebration? Usually you only agree to go out if it is for something special," the god observed.

"Taylor just graduated from college," Steve answered proudly, patting her head affectionately, "she's earned her Master degree."

"You are a master now, Taylor. That is cause for celebration! Congratulations are in order!" he boomed, making her laugh.

She slipped from the kitchen and gave him a hug, something all of the Avengers had grown accustomed to—even Natasha. He returned the gesture, although as soon as he released her she had to take a deep breath or else pass out from oxygen deprivation. Those muscles of his were great for battle, but absolutely smothering. More power to Jane.

From just to his side, she noticed another man, a stark contrast to Thor. His hair was black and slicked back and his eyes were a gorgeous shade of green. His wore mostly green and black leather, although she couldn't tell if it was armor or casual wear. His handsome, regal features were vaguely disturbed by everything around him, or maybe it was just interstellar travel that gave him that expression.

"Taylor Cadence," she introduced herself, "you are…?"

The man stared at her, seemingly caught between being dumbfounded and angry. From behind her, Tony, Steve, and Thor all burst into laughter. Even Bruce was chuckling a little. Confused, she glanced at the man again, brow furrowed.

"Is this some sort of joke?" he hissed, looking for a moment like he was going to hit her.

"Calm yourself Loki," Thor said, grabbing Taylor's shoulders and gently steering her out of range, "it's not the girl's fault she doesn't recognize you."

As the name sunk in, she squinted at the Asgardian a little, tipping her head like he was a difficult puzzle to solve.

"Oh," she drew the sound out, pointing from a safe distance, " _that's_ your 'troubled' brother? The one that got into a bit of conflict here a few years ago?"

"'A _bit_ of conflict'?!" Loki choked out, glaring.

She shrugged helplessly, expression a question mark.

"I'm new to the team," she reasoned.

Tony, still giggling to himself a little, slung an arm around Taylor's shoulders and pulled her further away from the more murderous-looking god of lies. No, they hadn't told Taylor much about the New York incident. It had been before her time on the team—after all she had only been sixteen when the city had been destroyed, and back then she'd had her _own_ problems to worry about. All they'd given her were the basics and never any names. The few times Thor had mentioned his brother had only been in passing and she'd never made the connection between Loki and the infamous attack on New York.

The look on Loki's face was priceless, though. It seemed like he'd never met anyone that didn't recognize him before and it was a shot to his ego for sure. Taylor hadn't meant to offend him—which was probably the best part—but it sure seemed to have. Who knew that even after all this time in prison the god would still be so sensitive?

"Don't worry about it, Tay. All you have to know is that Reindeer Games over there led the attack on New York and he's been imprisoned in Asgard ever since," the billionaire explained.

"Why is he here then?" she wondered observantly, looking to Thor for an explanation.

The thunder god sighed, adjusting his grip on his hammer.

"There is a new threat that is rising, and I need your help again, my friends, but I will explain everything in detail at a later time. For now, let us celebrate Taylor's accomplishment."


	3. Chapter 3

Taylor frowned at her hair in the mirror, wrinkling her nose when it refused to settle into proper curls. How was it that she had trained and disciplined herself to complete perfect, but her hair of all things absolutely refused to submit to her will? With a groan of frustration, she went in search of Natasha or Pepper, either one of which usually aided her when things like this happened and ignored Steve's snort of laughter when she passed him in the living room. Twenty-two years old and Taylor still couldn't tame her own hair, how embarrassing.

They'd finally decided to party at home, where she was more comfortable and where food of any kind could be ordered in an instant. Besides, Loki couldn't get too far if they stayed in Stark Tower. The only problem was that Tony had invited way more people last minute and had somehow convinced almost all of them to show up, which meant she had to actually be presentable. She could deal with the dress, and the shoes, and even the copious numbers of people, but her hair? That she could not deal with.

"Natasha?" she asked, tapping on the spy's door.

"Hey, what's—whoa, never mind. Okay, come in. I can fix this."

The spy sat the younger girl down in the chair by the desk in her room and immediately went to work. Natasha had just been finishing up her own outfit for the night when Taylor had sought her help, so she wasn't too concerned with her own appearance.

This was not the first time Natasha had had to fix one of Taylor's hair disasters…although this wasn't the worst it had ever been. Once it had been a fluffy, frizzy mess and it had taken nearly an hour to get it in order. This—the failed curls and the slight frizz—was almost nothing in comparison to that night. Even so, Natasha worked patiently and methodically at the younger woman's hair.

"I'm sorry to bother you with this again. I gave it a good effort, but I always manage to mess it up somehow," Taylor sighed.

"Don't worry about it," Natasha replied easily, "I'm not in any rush. I wish I had someone to help me with my hair when I was younger too."

Taylor, despite Natasha's best efforts, had become something like a younger sister. Natasha kept up the wall between them, but Taylor never pushed it. She knew when to reach out and when to stop.

"There," the redhead said at last, sounding satisfied, "I fixed it."

Where there had been kinky, messed up curls before, her nearly blue hair fell in thick, manageable curls around her face and shoulders now and it was _pretty_.

"Thank you so much," Taylor sighed with relief, "you're the best."

"I know," Natasha joked, squeezing Taylor's shoulder, "now let's get going. You wouldn't want to miss your own party."

Bucky was, thankfully, waiting for her with Steve when she arrived. He already had a drink in hand, even though he couldn't actually get drunk, and another for her. Taylor generally avoided more than an alcoholic beverage or two a night—her brother had kind of ruined it for her; she'd cried on 21st remembering his drunk stumbling, black outs, and, occasionally, his rages. All of the Avengers were sympathetic to this—bless them—and generally didn't get too inebriated around her.

"Hey, doll," Bucky murmured, nudging her with his elbow and pulling her from her dark thoughts, "relax. Celebrate! This party's about you, remember?"

She chuckled, glancing at him sideways.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," she grumbled, a reluctant smile pulling her lips up.

"Go talk to Thor," Steve suggested, "You love talking to him."

"Yeah, I think I'll do that," she agreed, patting Steve's shoulder, "I'll see you guys soon."

Thor did, indeed, have stories to tell her, and he managed to lift her spirits enough to actually enjoy her party. She listened to all of his tales with great enthusiasm, laughing and joking with the people she'd quickly come to know as family and friends.

"So wait, Taylor, you haven't been on a date since you became an Avenger?" Tony's friend, James Rhodes—Rhodey—asked at one point.

Her cheeks immediately flushed because that was a point that somehow always came up at social events like these. She didn't really mind the fact that she was single so much, or the light-hearted heckling from her friends. It was when it was absolute strangers asked her about it that she got uncomfortable.

"I've been on dates," she answered indignantly, voice a few notes too high.

Well it was true. She had been on dates…she could just count one both hands the number of times in four years that had happened.

"Really?" he questioned, raising his eyebrows at her.

"I have!" she insisted, quickly trying to change the subject, "How come you don't ask any of the others that?"

He laughed.

"Because I know where all of them are at. Thor has Jane, Tony has Pepper. Natasha might or might not be interested in Banner. Barton supposedly has a girlfriend or something like that. Bucky and Steve are single and awkward like you."

"Oh yeah? Where's your girlfriend?" she scoffed, placing her hands on her hips in challenge, raising an eyebrow expectantly.

"Okay, okay, fair enough," Rhodey allowed, "but at least I date."

"I date!"

Loki couldn't understand what the big deal was with this mortal woman. She seemed completely normal to him—apart from the fact that she didn't know who he was. How could someone care so little for their own planet that they didn't know the man that had nearly conquered it? Then again, watching her interact with the others, she seemed a bit absent, like she kept getting lost in her thoughts before one of her precious team members would claim her attention again.

"Enjoying the view, brother?" Thor questioned slyly, sidling up beside Loki with a drink in his hand.

"Hardly," Loki snipped forcefully turning his gaze away from the girl to eye the blond man, "I don't understand why I have to celebrate this sniveling child like the rest of you. She means nothing to me."

It seemed that Thor was better behaved in front of his Midguardian friends. Loki could remember countless numbers of times Thor had gotten hopelessly inebriated, but apart from what seemed like the slightest buzz, his adopted brother was fine now.

"It is easier to enjoy myself when I can keep an eye on you here," Thor answered simply, flashing one of his infamous smiles, "I would have thought you'd jump at the chance for merriment."

Loki curled his lip at the prince.

"Not with these _mortals,"_ he snarled the word, looking at one blue-eyed female Midguardian in particular.

Thor followed his eyes, taking a nonchalant sip of his beverage as the girl said something that was apparently funny, because the group of people surrounding her began laughing. That smile of hers was truly infectious, as there was a long time when it was so rare for her. Thor found the corners of his mouth lifting slightly just watching her interact unabashedly with people.

None of the Avengers were given to talking about their families, but it became especially obvious that Taylor made a point of avoiding the subject entirely, even now. Steve and Tony had disclaimed some information they'd gathered, either through SHIELD or observation. She was adopted; her stepmother was physically abusive, and her brother was a verbally abusive drunk. The scar on her forehead was a testament to the tortures she'd had to endure under their care before joining them.

"Have you tried speaking with her?" Thor asked abruptly, as the similarities between the two suddenly occurred to him.

"No," Loki replied immediately.

In fact, he'd been avoiding her for the entire pointless event. It wasn't exactly easy, she travelled from group to group like a bee to flowers. She never stayed in one place for long, but always she had a chat with someone and by the time she left, everyone had a smile on their face. It was like she was running on smiles alone, because she certainly was avoiding the alcohol, he noticed.

"And why not?" the other demanded with a laugh, "You aren't really that resentful that she didn't recognize you?"

"Of course not," Loki lied.

It wasn't quite that he was resentful—it was just that the whole conversation had left a bad taste in his mouth. There was something about her that didn't sit right with him. There was something about that innocent expression when she spoke and the way she was completely oblivious to the danger he posed her. He could probably kill her before she could even blink but she just offered him politely clueless smiles.

"Taylor is an interesting woman. She's very intelligent, and she's got a sharp tongue, once she warms up to you," Thor offered, although Loki hadn't asked.

"Well that doesn't make sense. Shouldn't it be the other way around?" the trickster inquired, frowning at the girl as she made some ridiculous gesture that sent Stark into a fit of laughter, nearly pitching him from his barstool.

Thor's chuckle pulled Loki's attention back to his adopted brother.

"Not everyone thinks as you do, brother," he answered, "actually, you two are almost complete opposites in disposition."

As Loki turned his attention back to her, someone seemed to be asking her to do something. She appeared to say something like "just this once" and then proceeded to light the shot of liquor offered to her on fire. The person holding it downed it at once, but not before Loki noticed she put it out so as not to burn whoever the recipient was. So she could control fire. That could be useful…

In that same moment, someone suddenly stumbled into the girl, hopelessly drunk, and began babbling at her. The girl looked completely stunned and uncomfortable for a moment, freezing up on the spot. Lucky for her, her friend with the metal arm and the patriot intercepted them. The soldier, the one normally in spandex, diverted the accoster while the one with the metal arm smoothly led the girl away, engaging her quickly in conversation.

That was certainly an interesting reaction, considering the people she lived with. As far as he could tell, Stark was perpetually drunk, but she seemed to get along with him just fine. Then again, perhaps it was that the girl didn't know the person that had approached her, so she'd been surprised? Either way, it was an odd response that he silently filed away to investigate later. Perhaps she meant something to him after all: an interesting puzzle to solve.


	4. Chapter 4

The party had ended almost an hour earlier, but the Avengers and their closer friends were still loitering around the couches, some of them nursing drinks and others without. Taylor had passed out on the couch—not from alcohol, but simply because she'd spent hours upon hours awake working on both college and missions, and now she was catching up on all she sleep she'd missed.

She'd started out just sitting next to Bucky and they'd been talking. Then there had been a lull in their conversation and next thing he knew, her cheek was pressed into his shoulder and she was fast asleep. He hadn't had the heart to wake her, so he'd let her be and somehow, as the party had wound down, she'd slipped from his shoulder to his lap, where she was now curled up like a cat.

The Avengers were all trying to lift Thor's hammer, taking turns trying to get it off the table, but it just wouldn't budge, and they were having a good time making fun of each other in the process. Loki was milling about, trying not to be noticed while he observed them all and silently wished they would just go to bed so Thor would let him get his own sleep. He envied the brunette snoozing so peacefully.

"Think Taylor could lift it?" Tony wondered suddenly, looking at the slumbering woman curiously.

Thor actually looked unsure for a moment.

"Taylor is a good person, but I'm not sure that she would be able to lift Mjolnir," he said slowly.

"Should we wake her up and find out?" Natasha questioned, interested in seeing this.

"Nah, let her sleep," Bruce disagreed, "she needs it."

Bucky glanced down at her, a sudden idea occurring to him. While he liked all of the Avengers just fine, he still valued solitude most times. The only exceptions were Steve and Taylor, who could sit quietly with him without impinging on his privacy. He counted this as his one major social interaction for a while and now he just wanted some sleep and some time alone.

"The doctor's right. I think I'm going to take her up to bed," he said, scooping Taylor up effortlessly, taking care not to jostle her lest she wake up and ruin his escape.

Of course, as always, his statement was met with a few suggestive "Ooh's" and Tony declaring "I knew it". No, they were not a couple—and the others definitely knew it—but damn if they didn't love teasing Taylor and Bucky about it every chance they got. When the jokes had first started, both Taylor and Bucky would flush bright red and adamantly deny it, but now they merely rolled their eyes and ignored the other Avengers.

"Mm, Buck? Are you taking me to my room?" Taylor mumbled when the movement of the elevator disturbed her from her slumber.

This was not the first time she'd woken in the super soldier's arms. He had a way of watching out for her like that—all the Avengers did actually, but since Steve had become capable of protecting himself, he'd taken to keeping an eye on her. That didn't mean he didn't still have Steve's back no matter what, but little things like this…Taylor had definitely become his charge.

"Yeah, the party's over," he answered, "I'm using you as an excuse to get to bed."

A sleepy smile curled her lips up as her light blue eyes fluttered closed again. She was exhausted—the work out earlier that day and the party (plus the stress that always accompanied parties) had ensured that. She had work to do in the morning and she was eager to get all the rest she could.

"It wouldn't be the first time," she sighed with amusement before drifting off again.

Dimly, she remembered that there was another, slightly murderous, Asgardian lurking about the tower, and that Thor had had something to tell them about, but that seemed completely irrelevant compared to how comfortable her bed was.

* * *

9:30 the next morning saw that the Avengers were all, collectively, passed out. Loki crept out of his room, confident that the superheroes would still be sleeping after their party the night before. The group had stayed up until the early hours of the morning, talking and joking, and with the alcohol in their systems, they were most assuredly not waking for some time. He travelled in the direction of the kitchen—food first, and then he would test the boundaries of this new and temporary living space.

Unfortunately, that plan was foiled by a certain brunette buzzing about the kitchen. Her black, almost blue, hair was pulled back messily from her face as she flipped some round, bread-looking object on a hot plate. She was tapping her fingers along the countertop in tune to a song playing softly from no discernable source.

Loki recalled what Thor had said to him last night, about the girl being intelligent and having a sharp tongue. Perhaps he could speak to her after all, to help alleviate some of the boredom. If she proved interesting enough, he'd have something to occupy his attention, at least for a little while. Besides, he needed sustenance and she was as good as any to direct him in Midguardian cuisine.

While he was considering, Taylor turned around, planning to pour herself a glass of orange juice while she was waiting for her pancakes to brown. Instead, she was startled to find the god of bad moods and death glares hovering near the open kitchen. With a startled shriek, she brandished her weapon—a silicon spatula—simultaneously as the two pancakes currently on the flattop burned to a crisp with the flare of her powers.

"Oh, how terrifying," the Asgardian remarked flatly, raising an eyebrow with an unimpressed expression, "a girl with a plastic cooking utensil. I'm truly intimidated."

She let out a breath, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she lowered her improvised weapon and pressed her lips together. Just her luck that Loki would be the one to sneak up on her like that. It wasn't like she was easily surprised anymore, it was just that she'd expected everyone, even Loki, to be dead to the world for another hour or so. Her embarrassment melted into sheepishness as an awkward giggle escaped her.

"I made do with what I had," she defended herself, gesticulating wildly with the spatula, "don't judge."

"Miss Cadence, your pancakes are burnt and still on the heat," Stark's AI system, JARVIS, alerted her.

"Ah, man!" she whined, fearlessly picking up the blackened disks that more resembled hockey pucks or Frisbees now.

"Do you not feel the heat?" Loki questioned as she frowned at the lost pancakes.

"No," she replied, giving him a surprised look, "I can't even feel it."

Taylor had spent so long around the Avengers, she'd forgotten that it was strange to outsiders that she would handle seemingly scalding things without hesitation. Whoops. Perhaps she should keep that in mind next time…

"What is it you're making there?" Loki inquired, watching as she scooped out more batter with a ladle and pooled it into circles on the flattop.

"Pancakes," she answered lightly, "it's a pretty standard breakfast food here. I'm making a bunch for everyone because I know they'll be hungry when they wake up. You can have some too, if you'd like. There are finished ones on a platter over there and there are plates in the cabinet."

She pointed at different intervals as she spoke, eyes drifting away from him to her pancakes and then off into space as she trailed of contemplatively. The morning was when she "served herself" as Thor liked to say. It was when it was most quiet in the Tower and also when she was least likely to be interrupted. Of course, with Loki there she couldn't go quite as deep into thought as usual, but she couldn't help her wandering mind.

"These will do," Loki said decisively considering everything she'd set out on the counter.

He could identify the contents of one large bowl—fruit—and a bag of chocolate. The rest was foreign to him, but it all appeared edible. Would she laugh at him if he asked her to identify the items? It was too soon to tell with her.

"Good," Taylor replied, stepping closer to hand him a fork and knife.

In the process, their eyes met and they both suddenly realized how careful they'd both been about maintaining a safe distance between themselves. Taylor had avoided him since they met before the party just as Loki had, and now they were standing less than two feet away and almost…cordial. Something crackled in the space between them, some unspoken acknowledgement or feeling, like they were aware of the mystery of the other and it was disturbing.

"Do you mind telling me what all you have laid out here?" he requested, breaking the spell.

She blinked, snapping out of it and fumbled to answer his question. She was such a sap! Just standing there, staring? Smooth move, Taylor. She was such a charmer.

"Assorted fruits, butter, syrup, whip cream, and chocolate," she pointed to each thing in turn, moving away to flip the pancakes before glancing back at him, "if there's anything else you want with them, just ask and I can see if we have it."

Loki was a bit taken aback by her generosity. He'd expected…something else. Maybe sarcastic, biting comments, like the rest of the Avengers. He wasn't prepared for…this. The smiles and the kindness were throwing him for a loop, but he refused to let her confuse him any further.

"You know what I've done, don't you?" he inquired, frowning at her.

She gave him a curious look, her tapping fingers pausing yet again as she gave him her attention.

"Yes, of course," she answered, "what you did was awful."

She flipped the pancakes out and onto another plate before turning off the flattop. She'd made _a lot_ of pancakes and was now out of batter. If the huge stack on the counter wasn't enough for all of them she'd order something or make more. She was fairly certain there was another box of mix in the cabinet somewhere…

"And yet you are kind to me," Loki pointed out, observing as she stacked three of the large disks on a plate and began slathering them in condiments.

"Is there reason not to be?" she questioned, giving him an uncomprehending look, "Thor told me about what happened with the dark elves. Seems like you've changed—at least a little. I don't see any reason to be rude."

She settled on a stool on the other side of the counter, staring at him with her big blue eyes expectantly. Loki realized she was waiting for him to speak, leaving the conversation open to him to continue or shut down. He wanted to begrudge her for her slyness, but it was rather clever as well.

"Tell me, girl," he began, gazing at her over his own breakfast, "what possesses you to believe that I would hesitate for a moment to kill you?"

She raised an eyebrow at him, snorting softly.

"Firstly, my name is Taylor," she began, "I'd appreciate if you called me that instead of 'girl'. Second, I'm not really worried about you killing me, because you could have done it a second ago and yet here I am, still breathing."

Ah, so there was a bit of that sharp tongue his brother had mentioned. Oh yes, if there was more to this, Loki was certainly interested in seeing it. She was proving to be far more interesting than he'd first assumed.

"I hope it's not too personal to ask, but are you and that man with the metal arm in a courtship?"

She stared at him for a moment, brain clearly trying to figure out what he was asking.

"Oh, Bucky and I? You're asking if we're in a relationship?" at his nod, she giggled, "No, Bucky and I are just friends. We're both single."

There was a beat of silence before she cast him a sly look, a playful smile pulling at her lips.

"What about you?" she inquired, "Any clandestine loves in Asgard?"

He smirked slightly.

"No. I didn't have many visitors during my time in the dungeons."

"Ooh dungeons," she reflected, raising her eyebrows suggestively, "that's pretty kinky."

He understood that she was making some sort of joke, but he didn't recognize the terminology behind it. Even so, he could appreciate her sense of humor—straightforward as it was. He wasn't used to honest, blunt women like her (except, perhaps, his mother) and it was wonderfully refreshing.

"Well," she said after a moment, taking her dishes to the sink and placing coverings over the bowls, "I have work to do in the lab. Considering I have no clue when Thor might be up, you should join me."

He narrowed his eyes at her, a strange sense of…oh gods, was that betrayal? He'd thought he'd gotten over feelings like that. It bothered him more than it should that she truly didn't trust him alone in the tower, despite her words before. Perhaps it was just the hope the she would act differently towards him that made it sting.

"Worried I'll escape?" he snipped bitterly.

She gave him a flat look, like he'd said possibly the most obtuse thing in all the nine realms and she was striving for patience. It was an incredibly revealing feeling, to have the same look he'd had given countless numbers of people turned on him now.

"No," it sounded vaguely irritated, "I just thought you'd like some company—and while yes, I could keep an eye on you, I figure it might be better if you have an excuse as to where you've been. I know the others might give you a hard time about it."

He stared at her, trying to determine whether she was lying or not. He moved closer, nearly pinning her against the counter as he grabbed the front of her shirt, jerking her closer. Her bright blue eyes were wide as she stared up at him, one hand raising very slowly to touch his wrist. He could feel the heat in her fingertips, but it wasn't unbearable yet.

"What are you playing at?" he demanded, nearly snarling.

"I just want to do my job, to be honest," she replied matter-of-factly, raising an eyebrow, "whether or not you want to take up my offer is your choice."

She gently removed his hand from her shirt and turned back to the sink, washing off her breakfast dishes and grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. Like Tony, she tended to forget to do basic things like eat, or sleep, or sometimes even use the bathroom, once she was on a role. Having water around would at least keep her from passing out of dehydration.

Halfway to the elevator, Loki caught up to her, not uttering a word or looking at her, but there nonetheless, and she tried not to smile too wide in case he noticed. Taylor hadn't woken up this morning with the intention of getting on the grumpy god's good side, but if she could manage it, she supposed she didn't mind. The question could (and probably would) be raised of why she would want to be acquaintances with Loki of all people in the first place.

The truth of the matter was that she had a bleeding heart, and she of all the Avengers apart from Thor, remembered that Loki was an actual person. He had feelings, felt loneliness like everyone else. He was in a realm that wasn't home, alone with people that pretty much hated his guts. She could sympathize with being hated and being somewhere foreign and alone, at least separately. Together, she could imagine the feeling wasn't pleasant at all.

She glanced sideways at the Asgardian as she unscrewed and screwed the cap to her water bottle. Taylor knew that she couldn't push him. He was a lot like a skittish animal, wary of everyone and willing to lash out if he felt he was backed into a corner. If she wanted to even befriend him, she'd have to be patient and let him come to her in his own time, like the Avengers had done to her. She was off to a good start—they'd already started cordial conversation and now he was spending time with her in the lab.

"Are my looks so dazzling that you can't keep your eyes off of me, or are you plotting something?" he asked suddenly, turning to look at her with a smirk.

She blinked, realized that her "quick glance" had turned to "contemplative staring" without her knowledge and he'd noticed. It was sort of hard not to, considering her big, bright eyes and the fact that they were the only two in the elevator. She wasn't exactly discreet about it, not that Taylor had realized she was doing it in the first place, anyway.

"I—I'm not—I mean you're not—well, you are, but I wasn't…" her cheeks heated up with embarrassment as the elevator door finally opened and she was able to escape.

Wow, her articulateness stunned even her sometimes. Heat never bothered her up until the exact moment she couldn't talk to someone. What the hell? Four years with the Avengers and she couldn't talk to an alien? Man, was she lame!

"Oh yes, that was very convincing," Loki teased (actually _teased_ , oh gods, perhaps he should lay down and get some more sleep) while Taylor adamantly ignored him, placing her hand on the scanner to allow her access to the labs.

The next few hours would be interesting…


	5. Chapter 5

Entering her cluttered workplace, Loki found it much more personalized than he would have expected. There was a padded rolling chair and a stool strategically placed directly where she could see each and every screen. She'd left holograms rotating in the air from when she'd last been down, and they lazily drifted from her path as she approached a large glass desk, absently stepping over notes and pens and several random pillows along the way.

Loki followed at a slower pace, careful not to step on any of her papers and taking in the whole of the lab in the process. It was extremely spacious, with one wall operating as a giant window/screen, the opposite wall that they'd just stepped through made entirely of thick glass, and the two others solid. The two solid walls were almost entirely covered in multicolored post-it notes. The one on the right seemed devoted to new ideas and algorithms, while the one on the left was a chaotic mosaic of stick-figure cartoons and doodles all interacting with one another. What could be seen of the wall was painted a dark, soothing shade of blue.

"This is…something," he observed, absorbing it in all its entirety.

"Yeah, I know," she admitted sheepishly, scratching at the back of her head, "but there's a method to the madness. Sort of. I mean, I know where everything is…"

She shrugged helplessly, like she had no excuse for the mess that had made its way from her brain to the material world as she settled herself in the cushioned rolling chair that was far too large for her. She crossed her legs, swiping a notebook, a pack of sticky notes, and a pen off her desk.

"Make yourself comfortable," Taylor invited, settling further into her own chair, "there are pillows, chairs, I think there's even a blanket around here somewhere…"

She trailed off as something apparently occurred to her and she dragged a holographic model towards herself, tapping in codes and adjusting its measurements. Apparently left to his own devices for a moment, Loki began exploring more of the lab. He glanced over some of her work and was pleasantly surprised that not only was her handwriting legible, if a little rushed, but that he could understand the formulas, even if not what she was using them for.

"What is it you're trying to do here?" he questioned, walking up behind her and watching the hologram as she rapidly began writing something across the screen with the cap to her pen closed.

"Oh," she jumped as if he'd scared her, "do you remember how you were using Tony's building for a power source to open that big hole between dimensions a while ago? Well, we're modifying that. What you used was just a prototype, but here we're adjusting it. I'm working on the mechanics of actually making the thing work."

Here her tone became slightly aggravated as she glared at the screen for a moment before continuing.

"The idea is to perfect the clean energy generator for Stark Tower to run indefinitely before we move on to compressing that same device for other things, like cars. Tony's working on creating a grid to avoid difficulties and power outages, as well as backup storage, in case the power does cut off, and also a security system to sequester energy in one part of the tower rather than another."

She spoke in one long rush, barely stopping for breath, making it clear she was extremely passionate about what she was doing. Her heart and soul was going into her work and it was almost contagious. Obviously, she was working just for the science, for the pure joy of discovering and creating. It was an endearing, if naïve, quality.

"You're working on this alone?" he inquired with amazed disbelief.

"Well no," she answered, "I mean, Tony is obviously half in charge, and a couple of SHIELD scientists help out too, but I'm mainly in charge of this portion. Tony wants it to be my first major project out of school or something."

He let her get back to work there, interested in watching her tangle of thoughts make their way onto the numerous screens she was flitting between without interruption. She even offered him a sticky-note pad and a couple pens to divert his attention since she couldn't actively keep him entertained. A couple hours were passed this way—she was working madly, scribbling, typing, and fighting with designs and equations while he observed in semi-fascinated silence.

Sometime around eleven, the other Avengers began waking and Taylor paused in her work long enough to ask JARVIS to let them know where she and Loki were. After that, she buried herself in her work again, occasionally doodling absently while her thoughts organized themselves. Somewhere along the way, Tony and Bruce ventured down to check on them, satisfied to find that Loki hadn't killed the youngest Avenger yet.

"How are things coming along?" Tony inquired loudly as he entered, peering around the space with a mildly impressed expression.

"Fine," she answered distractedly, pausing to add reproachfully, "this would be easier if you actually _wrote_ notes rather than left everything in your head."

Bruce chuckled as Tony began scanning over her current labors with a critical eye, ignoring her aggravated tone.

"Tell me about it," the quieter of the two men agreed, "it's even worse when you're working with him directly."

"I can't write as fast as I can think," Tony argued defensively.

"Neither can Taylor or I, but we still manage to get almost everything down," Bruce replied, crossing his arms.

The billionaire waved him off, turning back to Taylor and pointing at a screen.

"It looks good so far. You've made a lot of progress. How long do you think it'll be until you want to try running actual tests?" he questioned.

She looked at the screens dubiously, her features mutinously betraying her apprehension.

"Mm, I don't know. I need it to work properly in the simulation before I can even think about doing it in real life," she said, "if I'm wrong…"

She trailed off there, brain spiraling somewhere dark. If she was wrong, things could quite literally explode. She was good with her powers, but not good enough that she was confident she could control an explosion of that magnitude. It reminded her of back before she could control her powers, when she had accidently set cars and buildings and other things on fire and been unable to control it. It made her skin crawl.

"Hey," Tony called gently, waving a hand in front of her face, "I think if you give me the measurements, I could double-check that it's all sound before we begin building the machine. I could design a backup system, too, in case there was a meltdown of some sort."

She hesitated, glancing at her calculations. Tony was right, she was pretty confident that she had made excellent progress since she'd begun the project six months ago. Math wasn't something that was left up to interpretation. She'd know if she'd gotten something wrong. Besides, if Tony was suggesting she wrap up soon and begin testing, then she'd trust his expertise.

"Another week, I think, and we can start building prototypes," she decided tentatively.

Loki watched her expression carefully, recognizing the shift in her disposition immediately. She'd gone from confident and comfortable to uncertain and fearful with a simple question. She was sweet, he'd give her that, but she didn't seem to have a very strong constitution. It was a pity really, that all that fire was just a front.

"C'mon upstairs," Tony said, "Thor has something to tell everyone."

Taylor had almost forgotten that Thor pretty much never came to Earth for social visits. There was most likely a reason why the Asgardian was here and why he'd brought his brother as well. He'd mentioned it the night before, she remembered, but he'd allowed them to celebrate her graduation first.

"Alright," she agreed, initiating the saving and back up protocols before gesturing for Loki to join them.

The Asgardian stood closest to her in the elevator, and even though the space wasn't small, it felt downright claustrophobic with the tension coming from Tony and Bruce and the proximity Loki was to her. Taylor cleared her throat awkwardly, struggling for something to say.

"Did Thor say anything about it?" she questioned, peaking around Loki's much taller frame to peer at her two team members.

"Nope," Tony answered, "just that it was big and dangerous—like it ever isn't."

She sighed, leaning her head back against the elevator wall, her expression becoming pinched with aggravation.

"Why are there so many people that want to destroy the world?" she wondered aloud, "It's like it's suddenly become fashionable."

She didn't look at Loki as she said it, but he gave her a heated glare nonetheless. When she noticed his gaze on her, she leveled him with her own pointed stare, brazenly daring him to object, hands settled firmly on her hips. Without her realizing it, the temperature in the elevator increased by several noticeable degrees, and Tony tugged at the collar of his Black Sabbath T-shirt uncomfortably.

"Uh, Taylor?" Bruce said, barely attempting to hide his amusement at the two, "Do you mind turning down the heat a little? This elevator doesn't have the best ventilation system."

"It does when Taylor's not overwhelming the A/C," Tony griped under his breath.

Immediately snapping out of it, she consciously withdrew her powers, troubled that they'd gotten away from her so quickly and so easily with Loki. She usually had iron-clad control of her powers, but it was like the god tested her control—and all without even opening his mouth.

Finally, the elevator opened with an inappropriately cheerful tone and she physically forced herself not to rush from the suddenly smothering compartment. No, no she would not lose control of herself. It was subconscious, she was sure, a response to Loki's unspoken challenge, nothing more. More than three years without any incidents—some attractive Asgardian with a piss-poor attitude and an inferiority complex was not going to make her falter now.

"Taylor, I am most grateful for the warm cake disks you made us this morning," Thor told her immediately when he saw her, sweeping her up in yet another bone-crushing hug.

"You're welcome, Thor," she wheezed, trying as best she could to return the affection.

"I see you spent the morning in my brother's company. Did he cause you any trouble?" Thor inquired, giving his brother a pointed look as he set Taylor on the ground again.

"No, not at all," she answered pleasantly, "he was very quiet."

The other Avengers and Pepper all thanked her for making breakfast before matters turned serious as they waited for Thor to explain their newest threat. He looked uncharacteristically solemn as he gazed into the depths of his _#1 Superhero_ coffee mug.

"There have been…disappearances," he began, "throughout the Nine Realms. They are entirely unexplainable. No one has used the Bifrost save to investigate the missing villages."

"Villages?" she repeated, troubled.

"Yes, entire villages in every realm have disappeared except for in this one," Thor explained seriously, "There's no trace of where the people go or who took them. We believe that the culprit is using doors between realms to transport them, but how they manage to do it is a mystery, which is why I have brought Loki."

Taylor frowned, a shiver travelling up her spine with unease. It sounded like something out of an M. Night Shyamalan film. Entire communities disappearing without a trace? Creepy. Her teammates seemed to feel the same way as they shifted with unease.

"…So what you're telling us is that we know nothing about what's going on—except that entire towns are going missing, and that whoever is doing this is likely coming to Earth next?" Natasha summed it up with a bit of disbelief.

"I wish I could tell you more…but these people must be stopped," Thor implored them, looking at each of their faces in turn.

Taylor and several others nodded. They'd do whatever they could, but all this "alien" stuff was still new to all of them. At least this time Thor was just as in the dark as they were. They had no idea what they were up against, or how many, but they were willing to protect the people of Earth again at any cost.

"Well, where are these 'doors' to Earth?" Steve asked, looking at Loki expectantly.

"Too numerous and spread out to monitor. Your SHIELD agency would serve us more efficiently in this case," he replied, shaking his head a little.

"Actually, we can handle it," Tony interjected, gesturing between Bruce, Taylor, and himself, "we could probably whip up an algorithm to monitor all the locations at once. If any readings change, we'll get an alert."

The trickster god glowered, knowing that the superheroes wanted him nowhere near the rebuilding organization. Thor cleared his throat loudly.

"I prefer this course of action," he admitted, "I would prefer SHIELD not be involved this time, considering the events that occurred last time there was an attack…"

"Do we have a time period?" Bucky inquired, cutting through the tension bluntly, arms crossed impressively over his chest.

If Taylor didn't know he was such a teddy-bear, she'd think it was intimidating. When they'd first met she admittedly had, but now she just looked at him and thought of late Saturday nights crying over Nicholas Sparks movies and sticking fridge magnets to his metal arm when he wasn't looking. It pretty much destroyed anything that might have made him scary.

"Five to seven days it how long it usually takes between abductions," Thor offered, "Two have already passed."

"So we have three to five days left," Taylor summed up airily, "we don't know who or what we're going after, how many there are, or where they're planning to show up. Is that about right?"

Everyone shot her bleak looks as Thor nodded his regretful confirmation. She simply shrugged, running a hand through her midnight hair nonchalantly. With a decidedly confident set to her shoulders and stance, she planted her hands on her hips again.

"Sounds like a blast," she remarked cheerfully.

"Alright, let's get a game plan together," Steve picked up, naturally taking the lead as always, "Tony, Bruce, Taylor, we need you to start monitoring those locations with Loki. Thor, we need any more info you can give on these guys. Everyone else is on standby. Get ready to go at any moment."

Tony linked an arm through Taylors, and in the back of his mind, through the calculations and formulas he was already contemplating, he was proud of the young woman for not pulling away when he made contact, even though he knew he'd surprised her. It had taken him and the others years, _years_ to help Taylor. As much as he was an arrogant, self-absorbed, selfish asshole, Taylor had found a special place in his heart, nestled right between Pepper and the rest of the Avengers.

She met people's eyes now, even when she first met them, didn't hide or run when the others argued or yelled. The nightmares had all but ceased it seemed. He didn't wander into the living room/lab in the middle of the night and find her curled up, shaking and crying, anymore. When they slung their arms around her shoulders or dropped beside her abruptly on the couch, she didn't shrink away or shut down. The scars her family had left her with—physical, mental, and emotional—were far from gone, but it seemed they'd finally started to fade.

…And he didn't want Loki and his angry, destructive nature to ruin it.

"Tony, Taylor, wait up," Bruce called after her as they speedily made their way to the elevator.

"It's not me, it's the crazy billionaire!" Taylor replied apologetically over her shoulder, tugging at Tony's sleeve on the good doctor's behalf, "Slow down, you nut job! We're missing two people!"

Loki and Bruce finally caught up with him, the former of the two scowling wickedly as the elevator descended quickly to the lower levels where the labs were. Taylor stared up at the ceiling thoughtfully for a moment before speaking up.

"You should put music in this thing," she commented.

"Taylor," Tony reprimanded half-heartedly, "math now, home improvement later."

She grinned at him, folding her arms behind her back innocently.

"Somehow, I doubt you even need me for this. It seems like you already have something figured out."

He smiled and patted her shoulder distractedly as the elevator came to a stop, and the party of four quickly went to Tony's lab, which Loki personally found to be less inviting and…pleasant than Taylor's. Then again, the raven-haired woman's lab did have an assortment of entertaining objects and comfortable seating options that Stark's did not. The god had to stand around like a jackass as the three superheroes debated and argued for a moment before he was finally able to be of any use.

"That'll about do it. As soon as the readings change, JARVIS will inform us," Tony stated with satisfaction, thrusting his rolling chair away from a desk and straight into Taylor.

She scowled and kicked him in the leg, just hard enough to make rub his shin in indignation. Loki observed the proceedings half-irritated. This was becoming tedious. At this rate, he preferred the solitude of his prison cell to the three restless Midgardians. Perhaps now that he'd served his purpose, he could return to Asgard and pretend this whole ridiculous debacle had never occurred. Unfortunately, fate didn't seem to favor him—not that it ever did—as Taylor shot him a pointed sideways look.

"I'm going to go watch a movie," she said, "and I'm going to recruit Bucky to help me persuade Steve and Thor into joining us. If you'd like to be mildly entertained with some lovely pre-CGI affects and a man with a breathing problem, you're free to join me."

Loki's brow furrowed at her explanation. What in Odin's name was she referencing? He understood the concept of movies, but which movie specifically was beyond him. He'd never seen one in his life, and frankly he wasn't interested. Mind-numbing fictional universes that were more likely than not going to make him dumber for watching it was not on his short list of pleasurable Midgardian pass-times.

"I believe I'll decline," he replied crisply, folding his arm behind his back.

She shrugged, ran a hand through her raven hair and patted Bruce's shoulder as she made her way from Tony's lab.

"Suit yourself, Grumpy. The other six dwarves and I will just party without you."

She waved over her shoulder without turning back, the soft sound of her boots on the floor following her down the hall.

"Did she just insinuate that she's Snow White?" Tony scoffed, staring after their youngest friend with slightly narrowed eyes.

"I believe she did," Bruce replied uncertainly, raising an eyebrow.

That was Taylor, always referencing their band of misfits with one Hollywood reference or another. It was a wonder to them that she hadn't run out already after four years, and an even bigger wonder that she hadn't used the Snow White one sooner. Tony snorted, going back to whatever he was doing and effectively ignoring Loki in the process.

"She's the shortest one in the Tower. If anyone were dwarf, it'd be her."

Bruce chuckled.

"I'm telling her you said that."


	6. Chapter 6

The nightmares came back that night with a vengeance. Possible apocalypse-level invasion was imminent, but it seemed Taylor's subconscious was unwilling to allot her the seven or eight hours of rest she needed to function properly to face said threat. A miserable groan clawed up her throat as she lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling as her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting JARVIS had activated when she'd woken up. Bless his electronic soul, he had acknowledged her request to let the others continue sleeping without alerting them.

It had been two or three months since her last full-fledged, wake in sweat and terror, half on fire, tears stinging her eyes nightmare. She had others, the creepy ones that raced shivers down her spine and made her huddle under her comforter fortress like that would save her from whatever creatures lurked in the shadows. Those she could handle. The _real_ nightmares had not resurfaced until that night.

Mostly they were just images, or sometimes memories, either one brought with it a plethora of unwanted, buried insecurities, but ended in the same result: a sleepless, unsettled night. A deep sigh escaped her as she settled her face in her palms, desperately trying to control the tremors and quakes that wracked her body. Disjointed fragments haunted her—a burning house, someone screaming at her to _stop_ , a hand leaving a red mark on her cheek…

"Your breathing and heart rate have spiked again, Miss Cadence," JARVIS informed her helpfully, his calm, cultured voice, sounding perpetually just a tad concerned bringing her back to Earth.

"I'm going to make tea," she mumbled, throwing the blankets back and urgently leaving her room, each step on the cool tile reminding her that she was in the Tower.

The living room was dimly light, darkened in consideration of her currently light-sensitive eyes as she traced the familiar path the Avenger's kitchen. They'd opted out of doing shifts—JARVIS would alert everyone if the readings in the locations of the doors changed, leaving Taylor to her own shaken devices, thankfully.

She managed to get her unsteady hands to procure herself a cup of soothing tea, using her powers to heat up the water rather than the kettle or microwave. As it steeped, she leaned into the counter, arms wrapped tightly around her stomach. Taylor was more of a coffee person by nature, a slave to all things caffeinated, her second favorite stimulant beverage to coffee being Coca-Cola. Bruce had introduced her to the wonders of sedative herbal tea in her first year with the heroes, and she'd used it as a crutch for sleep ever since.

It was so quiet that when she heard the slightest of movements, she wasn't startled when someone spoke, although the owner of the voice did surprise her.

"It's an odd time of night to be up and about don't you think?" Loki questioned curiously.

A short, mirthless chuckle forced its way past her vocal chords.

"Isn't that a little hypocritical?" she pointed out, keeping her azure eyes steady on her fingertips, tapping out a rhythm to match the wild racing of her thoughts.

The faint rustle of clothes informed her that the surly god was venturing closer. He had not, in fact, chosen to join their Star Wars marathon. That had been…not exactly disappointing, but rather dampening on her nerd-infused spirit, not that it had really been affected in the end anyway. Steve and Bucky had been mildly surprised that Darth Vader was Luke's father despite their fairly sufficient German vocabulary, but Thor had absolutely lost it. She was sure Loki would have been floored too, if he weren't such a sulky drama king bent on milking the "everyone hates me" trope for all it was worth—but hey, at least he was king of something, anyway.

"I have an altered sleeping schedule," he replied, "and I wasn't very tired."

He paused, and she heard him stop in front of her, the counter a firm, solid obstacle between them, because whenever he was close to her like this, it was hard for him to keep his distance. Taylor was purposefully avoiding his gaze entirely, while he studied her far too intently for her liking, like he was trying to unravel some mystery. The joke was on him though—Taylor was had no wonderful mystery to solve, just nightmares.

"You seem tired, yet you're wandering about at some ungodly hour of the night. I'm curious as to why."

The female superhero shrugged, reluctant to tell anyone about what haunted her in her dream realm. More than one Avenger had caught her meandering about in the wee hours, but she'd never explained to them the demons that liked to seize her when she shut her eyes. Taylor may have been able to run from her mistakes, flee her torturous life before the Avengers, but she couldn't escape her own vicious ghosts.

"Trouble sleeping." She opted for a half-truth rather than full lie.

Taylor was a bad liar and she knew it. Rather than embarrassing herself with her deplorable skills of deception in front of the god of fibs himself, she went for vague honesty. More often than not, that caused more questions than anything, but she was better at being evasive than lying. Usually the others respected when she was being exclusive, but Loki, apparently, did not.

"Oh?" he questioned, settling his arms on the counter and leaning closer, "Tell me what troubles you."

She wasn't sure why that information would interest him, but she was suspicious. He'd taken a rapid plunge from non-hostile to anti-Taylor Jessica Cadence like he was on a roller coaster ride of friendship. They'd been getting along fairly well and then suddenly he was all scowls and clipped remarks…again. Why he had to be such a struggle-child was beyond her, but she was not about to let him burn her—figuratively anyway. Revealing the deepest, darkest parts of her soul and baring them to a complete stranger that reportedly took a sadistic pleasure in exposing and irritating sensitive nerves made her twitch.

Avoiding his piercing emerald eyes, her own gaze drifted to the counter, to his large, rather nice hands resting in loose fists. Startled, she studied further, past the long fingers, to his forearms, lean, subtle cords of muscle relaxed beneath the smooth, pale skin. Taylor had always had a weakness for hands…and arms…and well…nice body parts in general, but hands tended to distract her. The conspicuous clearing of the Asgardian's throat made her turn away, fishing the tea leaves from her mug and nearly sloshing the scalding water all over herself—not that she'd feel it.

Ah yes, her grace was truly unparalleled. Perhaps she should have forgone world-saving for professional ballet? The half-amused, half-incredulous look on Loki's face indicated that she shouldn't quit her day job just yet either.

"I…what are you even doing in here?" she questioned, recovering with a scowl, "Don't you have a tight schedule of sulking and lurking?"

He had the decency to look mildly offended by her snipping. Truthfully, he was desperately hiding a smirk at her irritation. There was no missing the somewhat…what expression had she been making when she was ogling his arms? Whatever it had been, she'd been sufficiently distracted—and even more comical was her current flustered state as she tried to recover some dignity from her unwitting fumble.

"You seem to be doing enough of both to compensate for me," he replied, goading the small temper he'd ignited.

Her mouth dropped open for a moment before she set her cup decisively on the counter and stalked around. Straightening as she neared him, he raised an eyebrow down at her with barely concealed amusement as she stood toe to toe with him, fists planted firmly on her hips. Her bright blue eyes were narrowed, her expression aimed for severe, but he couldn't quite take her seriously with half her dark hair sticking up from sleep and a matching, rumpled set of pig-themed pajamas on.

It was endearing really, this small spitfire glaring up at him, who towered over her, with an attitude to rival his own. He was purposefully aggravating her, to see how much of that inferno he could draw out of her without getting injured. When she replied, one hand left the generous curve of her hip to gesticulate her point.

"First of all, I wasn't _sulking_ , I was _contemplating_. There's a difference," she informed him matter-of-factly, "and second, I've lived here for four years. I can lurk all I want."

Loki could not restrain the antagonizing grin that curled his lips up.

"But you admit you were lurking."

"I was not lurking!"

"Easy, doll, you'll wake up the whole tower at this rate," Bucky said, coming into the kitchen just then.

Taylor snorted (very ladylike) and fixed him with a glare as well. Apparently finding her temper amusing as well, the soldier chuckled, burying his head in the fridge in search of water and a suitable snack.

"You two seem to be hitting it off," he added as he reemerged.

Loki and Taylor shot each other looks before both rolling their eyes and shaking their heads. Bucky observed them knowingly, smirking to himself. Not many people could rile Taylor up like that…this was turning out to be interesting. Before he could comment further, however, Steve suddenly burst into the kitchen in a pair of American flag-themed pajama pants and a white t-shirt.

"We got a hit. Suit up."

Taylor started giggling and Loki cleared his throat to hide his own laughter as Bucky considered the star-spangled pants incredulously. Realizing that no one had taken his orders seriously, Steve glanced down at his pants, huffed indignantly and pointed an accusing finger at the pyro.

"You're the one that bought me these pants," he pointed out.

"I know," she snickered, "I remember. I just didn't expect you to actually wear them. They look good."

If he'd rolled his eyes any farther, she was sure he would have seen his own brain. She'd bought him the pants as a joke on the Fourth of July previous. Steve had made a point of ranting about all the crazy things that had the stars and stripes printed on them in modern times, so Taylor had taken it upon herself to buy him a pair of pants and boxers from a vendor at a fair they attended. She had no idea he would actually wear either of them.

"They're comfortable," he explained defensively, "now suit up. There's something going on in Greenland."

Taylor groaned loudly before darting out the room after him. She _hated_ cold weather and Greenland was not actually very green at all.

* * *

Loki spluttered as they boarded the jet, each and every Avenger present for the task since no one was sure what to expect. Taylor had traipsed past him just a second ago, jogging ahead to accelerate pre-flight procedures while Romanoff and Barton took the pilot chairs. Her raven dark hair had been whipped back into a tight ponytail, pulled over one shoulder for the moment. It wasn't so much _what_ she was wearing that made him pause, it was where it sent his mind.

Her "suit" was little more than scraps of thick, fire-proof material, barely covering her skin. The top was a deep red V-neck, with thick shoulder straps and sharp lines that displayed a tight stomach. The bottoms weren't much better, a skirt in the same color that stopped mid-thigh with slits in the side up to the hip. The only redeeming quality was the pair of black shorts she'd donned beneath it to maintain _some_ modesty. The ankle high black boots did nothing to hide the length of her creamy, muscular legs.

It made his heartrate kick up a pace or two, and his mouth went dry as paper. What in the Nine Realms was she wearing? And _how_ in Odin's name was that supposed to protect her during battle? It was little more than undergarments, let alone armor of any kind. He couldn't believe her friends were even letting her run around like that! They were so protective of her, but they were allowing her to skip about almost indecently? Loki couldn't fathom it.

"You'll catch flies like that, Loki," Banner remarked laughingly as he passed him.

The god hadn't even realized he'd stopped walking, or that his mouth was hanging slightly agape as the raven-haired superhero flitted around in preparation for their mission.

"How is that at all an effective uniform?" Loki wondered aloud, continuing up the ramp.

"She can raise her body temper to the point that she burns anything she comes into contact with," Rogers explained, sans pajama pants, strapping into a seat, "The more skin she shows, the more damage she can do."

Taylor, oblivious to the conversation, approached them then, cutting off any further discussion of her clothes. Most of the flight was filled with idle chatter and the more tired Avengers attempting to rouse themselves. Loki contemplated this revelation. He hadn't inquired about Taylor's abilities, partially because he didn't care, but also because he knew the others would be suspicious if he started asking questions. He knew she could control fire, but was it more than that? How hot could she make her body temperature? How much heat could she stand?

"We're almost there, get ready," Romanoff called back to them, and Taylor sat forward, her fingers drifting to the release of her harness.

"Why Greenland, anyway?" Taylor questioned suddenly, glancing around as if someone had an answer, "It's not like they have a particularly large population—or really anything all that important."

Stark had already stood up, his suit unfolding and enveloping him where he stood.

"Maybe that's why," he suggested, "Greenland pretty much flies below the radar. If they're going for subtlety, that's a good place to do it."

"That's a good point," she agreed, sighing, "but I wish they'd chosen, like, Madagascar or something, instead."

The aircraft finally landed as she finished saying this and the group of nine quickly disembarked, planning to finish the mission quickly. As soon as she stepped out into the cold, Taylor grit her teeth, scowling as if the entire island itself were offending her. Small, white flakes drifted aimlessly from the blackened sky, attaching themselves to the Avengers hair and clothes. It melted immediately on contact with her skin, leaving wet droplets.

"I hate the cold," she muttered, brushing at the snow in her hair with irritation, "we should sue Greenland for false advertising."

"Like you wanted to sue Iceland for not being icy?" Natasha asked.

"Or the Space Needle for not actually reaching space or being a needle?" Tony added.

"Exactly."

"Focus guys," Steve called back to them, diligently scanning the area, "we've got work to do."

According to the spy duo, they'd all landed a couple miles from the town nearest to the portal. If the readings were correct, then whoever was causing the disappearances would likely target them. The team split up into two groups, half going in the direction of the portal and the other half of them towards the town to makes sure they weren't already too late. Loki and Taylor, both on the team headed for the portal, agreed that something felt wrong. It was far too quiet, and not just because it was night and it was cold…

"Taylor, watch out!"

Loki turned just as someone slammed into the woman full force, tackling her into the snow and ice. He heard a sharp cracking sound, likely her head impacting the ice, before she was able to recover. A burst of flame accompanied a powerful kick that launched her attacker off her and she scrambled to her feet, visibly gritting her teeth as she touched her head, her fingertips coming away bloody. He had no time to ask if she was alright before another came for him this time, swinging, and he snatched at the dagger in his belt to defend himself.

There were a lot of them, a battalion of at least two or three dozen, all of them with skin like obsidian and glowing like hot embers. Taylor called for backup into their radio devices before launching herself at another of the creatures, the two fighting in indiscernible flashes of light. Loki caught glimpses of her out of the corners of his eyes while he fought his own battles.

She was fierce and wild, surges of fire erupted as a punctuation to each blow and defense. It was hard to keep up with the ferocity with which she fought and he was suddenly grateful Taylor had not been a part of the team when he'd led the attack on New York.

"What are these things," she demanded between breaths, landing back to back with him only a moment later as the rest of the Avengers joined them, "they don't really seem to be affected by the fire."

"Fire giants," he deduced, "From Helheim."

She made an irritated noise.

"What sort of fire demons choose to attack in _Greenland_?" she demanded, throwing a large ball of fire that interrupted a nasty fight between one of the creatures and Tony in his Iron Man suit.

"Perhaps they didn't realize where this portal opened to," he suggested, pushing her out of the way when an explosion erupted too close to them.

They landed together in the snow, a tangle of limbs and torsos pressed together. Taylor hastily pushed herself away from him, shaking her head slightly to rid her ears of ringing from the blast.

"If fire doesn't work, I'll just have to get more creative," she commented, before running right back into the fray.

Her dedication and determination were commendable, but Loki wondered if she hadn't hit her head one too many times. Taylor, for her part, had morphed her fighting style from fire to tangible blasts of energy, more of force than heat, since heat wasn't working on the giants. A particularly difficult struggle with one of the creatures twice her size, had her so focused she didn't realize the bolts of light crackling beneath the surface of her skin until it was backing away from her, staring.

It yelled something to one of its comrades in a language she couldn't understand, but she didn't hesitate to run at it, unexpectedly knocking them both through the portal. Black soot and rocks buried themselves in her hair and dug into her skin as the two wrestled, now in another dimension. Back on the other side of the rift between worlds, Loki had witnessed Taylor's disappearance and, knowing she likely needed assistance for one reason or another, he dove after her.

He leapt through the opening, and landed right in the middle of the brawl. With his aid now, the two were able to subdue the monster quickly. Neither triumphant individual had won unscathed, however. The glass-like quality to the creature's skin had left oozing cuts and scratches that peppered their bodies. Taylor was, perhaps, worse off than Loki. With more skin available, they'd had more contact, the heat of her body doing little good to melt the obsidian shards in the end. All in all though, they could both remember battles that had ended worse.

"Are you alright?" she questioned, pressing her palm to a rather nasty slice in her side, staunching the flowing crimson liquid.

"More or less," he replied, surprised that she seemed genuinely concerned before he figured he ought to return to the sentiment, "and you?"

"Eh, I've had worse," she answered with a casual shrug that only made her wince for her trouble.

He half-smiled at her attempt at humor before turning his eyes to the landscape around them. She followed his gaze, bright blue eyes tracing the sharp rock outcroppings and the harsh lines of distant mountains. Everything around them was dark and desolate, there was no vegetation, the wind whipped at their clothes and hair, hurling bits of the strange black gravel into them at a painful velocity. Taylor felt as though the entire planet had a malevolent energy to it, desperate and somewhat depressing

"Where are we?" she inquired, brows pulling together and lips quirking into a frown.

This didn't look like fun. In fact, it looked like the entire planet was dead, deserted.

"Svartalfheim."

Her expression turned blank as she slowly faced him again, an arched eyebrow cluing at her emotions.

" _What-_ alheim?"

The god rolled his eyes, snorting at her lack of effort on the name. He repeated himself, slower this time so that she'd get it properly. When she just stared at him, apparently unimpressed, he elaborated.

"Home—well, former home—of the Dark Elves. I believe they've truly gone extinct this time, however. This was their realm."

She turned her eyes back to the landscape again, pressing her lips together for a moment before speaking.

"Thor told me you almost died. One of them stabbed you when you saved his life."

There was no inflection in her voice at all, but it still came out soft, more of a statement that he could choose to comment on or ignore. After their fight, he was less inclined to humor her efforts than usual and chose to mirror her previous unimpressed expression.

"More or less," he allowed blandly, turning on his heel suddenly and walking back towards the portal, "Hurry up or I'm leaving you here."

"Hold on, my leg hurts," she called with a grimace, limping to his side when he paused.

With a dramatic sigh of aggravation that Loki only partly meant, he ducked down on her uninjured side and wrapped an arm around her waist while her own went around his neck. He helped her back through the portal, where the rest of the Avengers had finished up and were just asking where the two had gone off to.

"Rule number two of missions Taylor: no running off for romantic interludes," Tony called, mocking seriousness.

She snorted, flipped him the bird, and explained what had happened. As they were trying to figure out what to do with the unconscious fire demons, the prone bodies suddenly disappeared into smoke all at once. Taylor leaned into Loki's side slightly and huffed, clearly exhausted, but holding out as they tried to puzzle out the missing enemies. Her blood felt slick and hot beneath his hand, but her skin felt cooler than usual, and it was making his stomach turn over as though he were going to be sick.

"Magic," Loki supplied to their questions, noticing the woman was beginning to shiver, "whoever sent them has some means to call them back without the portals. That would explain how they took the villagers as well."

"Who or what could do something like that?" Steve asked.

Loki made a helpless gesture with the hand not supporting Taylor.

"Your guess is as good as mine without my materials here. There is a library in Asgard that might have the answers."

Thor nodded, shifting his hammer wearily in his hand. There was a bad cut in his upper lip that kept dripping blood into his mouth and it was making him nauseous.

"Tomorrow morning we will return home," he declared tiredly, "for now, we will rest and recover."

Taylor glanced at her teammates, sighing when she realized most of them were in similar shape as her and Loki. Bruce seemed to be in the best condition, thanks to "the other guy" as he liked to refer to his alter ego, and even he looked like he'd been thrown in a woodchipper. She glanced at Bucky, making sure he was alright as well. For his first alien fight, he seemed to have fared well, though he looked one-thousand percent done for the day. She felt the exact same way.

"I agree with Thor," she added with a small groan, "Let's head back. I somehow doubt they're going to be back anytime soon."

With resounding agreement, the team began for the plane again, eager to return to the tower and nurse their wounds. Loki deposited Taylor securely in a seat while they took off and once they were steady in the air, Bucky helped her care for her injuries. The slash in her side needed to be stitched, and they had to wrap her ankle, but otherwise her injuries weren't serious, and anything that hadn't already stopped bleeding was slathered in antibacterial and covered in gauze.

Taylor noticed Loki remain unattended, refusing the first-aid kit and the offer of assistance from Thor. With a sigh, she hobbled to his side and dropped down next to him with absolutely zero grace, casually studying the wall of the aircraft.

"Any particular reason why you're not caring for your wounds?" she began.

He snorted, and she determined he wasn't in the best of moods, but when was he, really? She decided to forge onwards nonetheless, despite the glare he was probably throwing her way.

"I hardly need your silly Midgardian medicines," he sneered.

"Oh, right, because the almighty Loki is immune to an infection," she scoffed, "at least cover up some of the open ones."

He rolled his eyes and refused to respond. With a huff, she leaned back to conserve her fading energy, giving him a pointed sideways look.

"If you don't, I won't stop bothering you," she threatened, "and believe you me, I can ramble with the best of them. Do not underestimate my ability to carry a one-sided conversation with another person."

He sighed, fighting the irritating urge to smile at her words. He would not be amused by her attempts to irritate him into submission (even if they were humorous) over something as ridiculous as his own health. They were actually arguing over his own health. How ridiculous.

"Very well," he acquiesced, making a big production of sighing and rolling his eyes like it was some great labor.

She grinned victoriously and went about coating the more wicked cuts in a viscous ointment and plastering them with bandages. Behind her, the other Avengers were casting furtive glances, some perplexed, and others pleased. It wasn't unusual for Taylor to help patch her friends up after battles. In fact, she usually did so with great relish while they regaled her with the details of their exploits as a distraction to the pain. But she was patching Loki up like they were the best of friends. Loki!

"I forgot to thank you," she said suddenly, quietly.

"Thank me for what?" he inquired with surprise.

Well that was new, and admittedly pleasing. He couldn't remember the last time someone had thanked him—and actually meant it.

"For helping me."

He raised an eyebrow, scanning her expression while she remained focused on a small cut on his jaw.

"You will have to be more specific. I am having trouble remembering the specific instance you are speaking of."

She rolled her bright blues at him before reach for gauze that she began wrapping around his forearm.

"Well you came after me in Svartalfheim," she butchered it, but at least she'd tried this time, "and then you helped me back even though I was bleeding everywhere. I appreciate it, so thank you."

He stared at her for several moments after she said that, studying her fair features, gauging the weight of her words. Prompted by his silence, she glanced up at him, azure gaze locking with his own, piercing emerald one, and she became very aware of how close they were sitting together. Clearing her throat awkwardly, she got to her feet and used the nearest steady object to begin back towards her seat.

"You're welcome," he responded belatedly, just loud enough for her to hear.

She paused, apparently shocked that he'd answered her, before flashing a genuine smile at him over her shoulder and finishing the trek to her seat. The rest of the journey was quiet, most of them trying not fall asleep. The battle had wiped them out, the difficulty in injuring their resilient opponents having drained them. When the plane landed, Bucky volunteered as Taylor's human crutch and all the Avengers, plus Loki, retired to their rooms and slept without further altercation.


	7. Chapter 7

Taylor woke the next morning sore overall, and sprinkled here and there with sharp pains from her healing cuts. Her ankle had healed up overnight, thankfully, and was mostly just stiff when she tried to walk on it. Stumbling from the bed, she ripped each and every bandage off with a grimace and crept reluctantly into the shower, allowing the feeling of the water running over her skin to soothe her troubled mind.

While she'd been exhausted the night before, after nightmares and then their impromptu Battle Royale, Taylor's mind hadn't left her in peace to sleep. She'd been plagued with dreams of a certain temperamental Asgardian (ex) prince with a slight superiority complex. Not the fun, "you got hit by a bus and I laughed" type of dream either, or the "I killed you and had to the hide body" as she would have expected. No, they were the types of dreams that made a wicked blush rise to her cheeks at the mere thought of their contents.

She groaned and allowed her head to meet the shower wall with a dull thud. Perhaps Loki had been responsible somehow, with his super magic powers or whatever. Yeah, she doubted it. He'd looked as dead on his feet as everyone else, and as far as Taylor knew, he had practically negative number of reasons to torture her with erotic dreams. Her traitorous subconscious then, she decided. It had found yet another way to torment her, and these were not something she could shake off with some soothing tea and pat on the head from her teammates.

"I'm an asshole," she said to herself in the shower, "or at least deep down I am."

With a resigned sigh and a brief shake of the head, she wandered slowly back into her bedroom and donned her just-got-my-ass-kicked uniform. The just-got-my-ass-kicked uniform consisted of a pair of loose workout shorts that she'd never actually exercised in, and an old tank top with the words "at least I'm pretty" written backwards in fake, glued-on rhinestones.

Barefoot, she padded towards the kitchen, too tired and pained to do something productive like make breakfast for everyone. Instead, she snatched a frozen waffle from the fridge and heated it between her palms while the coffee machine went about enabling her caffeine addiction. Once her coffee was done, she began downing it without a second thought, pausing only long enough to take bites out of her waffle. First cup down, she made a second and, feeling human enough to understand English again, wandered into the living room where Bucky, Steve, Bruce, Natasha, and Clint were watching TV.

With a yawn, she nestled herself between Steve and the arm of the couch, murmuring a barely coherent "good morning" to everyone. The screen was split in half, one side broadcasting news coverage of a "disturbance" in Greenland, the other playing the classic Looney Tunes—not the slightly irritating new version. Taylor settled her sleepy attention on Bugs Bunny and Yosemite Sam while her coffee kicked in.

The rest of the Avengers slowly began trickling in, one at a time. First came Pepper, sleeping in for once, good for her. Next came Loki, who couldn't seem to decide what to watch and settled for the news—probably because it made actual sense to him. Then came Thor, who Taylor had to help in working the coffee machine. Finally Tony, true to style, joined them last.

By that time, Taylor felt like a functioning human being again and was engaged in a conversation with Steve about cartoons. The dilemma from night before came up slowly, and then finally they couldn't put it off anymore; they had decide on the next course of action.

"We must return to Asgard," Thor said, "so that we may ascertain how the fire giants are able to travel without the use of portals or the Bifrost."

"When you say 'we' who exactly are you referring to?" Taylor asked.

"Loki and I, of course," he answered, "but also you, my friends. The Bifrost is the best way to travel between realms, and I will need your help to defeat these creatures."

Taylor nearly exploded with excitement. She'd been dying to see Asgard for years, ever since Thor had first begun telling her stories about it and now it seemed she would finally get her wish. Sure, the reason she was finally going was because creatures in Helheim were stealing entire villages for some unknown reason, but she liked to focus on the positive.

"I don't know if it's a good idea to leave the Earth unprotected like that," Steve pointed out hesitantly, "if they come back…"

"Heimdall will keep an eye on the Earth. He may not be able to see them when they are between realms, but now that we know our enemy, he will alert us if they appear in any realm," Thor explained.

"Sounds like a plan," Tony said, clapping his hands together once and getting to his feet, "I'll go start packing."

"Carry only what you need," Thor urged, "clothing and other necessities will be provided in Asgard."

Taylor grimaced and began for her room. She had the distinct feeling that the Asgardians didn't make fire-retardant outfits on a daily basis. Her clothes wouldn't regularly catch fire, but if the situation suddenly turned tactical, she knew from experience leather (and most other materials) and fire didn't mix well. The mesh mission gear Bruce and Tony had designed for her was thrown into a duffle bag, along with pajamas (pesky nightmares and all), undergarments, and several pairs of shoes. Never underestimate the importance of heat resistant shoes.

Satisfied that she was packed properly, she threw the duffel over the shoulder that hurt the least and met with the others in the living room. The two super soldiers and the two spies were already prepared to leave, no surprise there, but Bruce and Tony were still strangely absent. Dropping her bag among the others piled on the floor, she sidled over to Loki, cramming her pesky dreams deep down in a little box where they couldn't embarrass her.

"How are you feeling this morning?" she questioned, stuffing her hands in her pants pockets.

"Better than you, I think," he replied, raising an eyebrow at her scratched appearance.

For once in her life, Taylor was covered in more open wounds than bruises, unusual considering she usually looked like a black and blue painting rather than a person after battles. The soreness and skin sensitivity wasn't there, but the worry of opening the injuries again had her moving gingerly. Plus those stitches in her side—she really hated stitches.

"You should have seen me after my first mission," she snorted, "I was nearly hospitalized. This is nothing."

There was a pause before she spoke again, quieter this time.

"Are you looking forward to going back?" she asked.

The god sent her sideways look, but quickly returned his eyes on the skyline outside the windows. It was a seemingly harmless question, but they both knew she was dancing around a touchy subject. Loki considered his subsequent words carefully, as he always did.

"To Asgard, I suppose I am. It is where I grew up. It is what I know, and it is beautiful. I do not look forward to returning to my cell, however."

She openly grimaced, though there wasn't pity in her expression. If anyone knew how useless and aggravating pity or sympathy was, it was Taylor. Loki would sneer and rebuke any attempt she would have made at expressing it as well. Besides, there was a good reason as to why he'd earned himself a cell, even if she figured he'd atoned for it in the end.

"You're helping us, though. They're not going to make you hang out in the dungeons when we still need your help, are they?" she wondered, eyes searching his face for an answer.

For a moment, just a moment, Loki's features softened from its resigned stoicism, and Taylor saw what she felt sure was genuine remorse for a moment before his usual bitter smirk was back in place and he faced her again. Folding his arms behind his back, he measured the raven-haired woman peering at him with an expression as close to impassive as he imagined she could make it.

"I would not underestimate Odin's commitment to my punishment," he warned her.

Before she could say anything more, the rest of the Avengers had arrived and it was time for them to relocate to an open space where Heimdall could open the Bifrost to them. Tony, unsurprisingly, carried three suitcases with him, Iron Man suits that he insisted he needed to bring with him. They decided the roof of the tower was the best option and stood huddled together as the wind buffered them.

"Grab hold of one another. We wouldn't want you to get lost in Yadrsil," Thor instructed, laughing lightly at the end.

Taylor paled. Oh yes, what a funny little accident that would be, to go hurtling into the void of empty space. Like when she crashed one of Tony's hundred-thousand dollar cars into a couple of plastic garbage cans while Natasha and Clint were teaching her how to drive. Hilarious. She scooted closer to Loki and clasped hands with him. Rather helpfully, her brain conjured an image of their fingers interlocked together, in bed, his hands guiding hers over her head while they—

"Whenever you're ready Heimdall."

A beam of light burst around them, and Taylor yelped as her unprepared body was jettisoned through space at a speed that made her feel like she would be ripped apart at any given moment. Her hand tightened on Loki's, vice-like with slight fear as she stared in wonder at the streaks of color flying by them, too fast to comprehend that they were planets and stars and nebulas.

Then, just as soon as it had begun, her feet touched solid ground and she stumbled, the trickster god's hold the only thing keeping her face from getting intimate with the polished gold floor. Steve did end up hitting the deck, and most of the Avengers winced while Bucky snickered and advised him to walk it off.

"That was…interesting," Clint remarked, disturbed, glancing at the glass opening they'd just travelled through.

"Who's up for another go?" Taylor added breathlessly, grinning at the looks it earned her.

The journey had been mind-numbingly, gut-wrenchingly terrifying, but fun all the same. Then again, Taylor was an admitted adrenaline junkie, so there was that to remember. With a satisfied breath, she released Loki's hand, ignored the fact that she missed its comfort almost immediately, and observed the inner mechanisms of the Bifrost with fascination.

"This is incredible," she murmured, "what sort of power does it run on?"

"Magic," the gold-clad guardian, Heimdall answered her, making her tip her head in confusion.

"Magic?" she repeated, "But…"

"It's best not to argue about it, girl," Loki interrupted, ushering her towards the opening after her companions.

"I thought we already had this conversation about calling me 'girl'," she commented, allowing him to herd her from the Bifrost, "or did you just forget my name?"

"I know your name very well, _Taylor_ , I just don't see why I should be delegated to using it."

She pretended that a warm thrill didn't go through her when he used her name, and chose instead to scowl at him.

"If you don't stop calling me 'girl' I'm going to use your name in as many puns as I can, and believe me, I'm creative enough to come up with a few."

He shot her skeptical sideways look. Taylor was an intelligent woman, surely she would know better than to antagonize him in such way. Perhaps not, he mused when he saw her determined and uncharacteristically devious expression. She may have been clever, but she was also her fair share of crazy. Reconsidering his references to her would be prudent for the sake of his own sanity.

"Taylor," Bruce called, interrupting their argument, "take a look at this bridge."

Curious, her gaze flitted down, where the translucent rainbow surface lit up brightly beneath each step. Squealing with delight, she began dancing around childishly, hopping in place just to see it light up.

"This is so cool!" she gushed.

She was a twenty-something year old woman with impressive science and technology degrees, not to mention one of the Earth's mighty protectors, and she was skipping about like a child. Loki could do little more than stare after her as she began jogging backwards, watching the trail she made with a wide smile splitting her face.

"That's Taylor for you," Tony commented with a chuckle.

"Let us just hope she does not trip and fall in the water," Thor added with slight worry, "she can be clumsy."

Luckily, the female superhero did not tumble into the sea lapping lazily at the shoreline, and her exuberance had died down some by the time they reached the castle. All the Avengers seemed taken with the golden city, but Loki felt dread settling heavy in his gut as they traversed the familiar passageways of his childhood home. He had little hope of keeping his current freedom while in Asgard.

His eyes darted around, waiting for guards to approach him at any moment with shackles to haul him back to his prison cell. Noticing his sudden unease, Taylor casually slowed her pace to walk by his side, silent while she absorbed their new surroundings. There was an unspoken invitation for conversation, but Loki wasn't sure quite what to say to her. It was odd, knowing the shame he would feel when he was restrained and led away to a cage.

He couldn't fathom why he would feel such a way when before that moment, he'd only really experienced a sense of strong indignation when they'd chained him. Even leaving Earth as he had the last time, muzzled, chained and beaten, he'd not felt the disgrace he anticipated now. His eyes flicked to the female by his side—her fault, he supposed. For a while he'd almost felt…human.

"Is it as you expected?" he asked her at last, finding the silence between them too crowded.

"Asgard or the palace?" she replied complacently.

"Both, I suppose."

She paused, thinking about her answer.

"The palace is better than I could have imagined," she started, but then shrugged, "as for Asgard, it's too soon to make any judgements."

A group of soldiers passed them, just finished on the training field, he assumed. Among them was Sif, and as soon as she saw him, she was charging right for the group, drawing her weapon. Taylor, unfortunately directly between the angry Asgardian woman and the former prince, put her hands up in a calming gesture.

"Whoa there, Xena," Tony called, noticing the standoff, "take it easy. We come in peace."

Taylor snorted, shooting the billionaire a look that said "thanks for the help". Thor intervened, swiftly attempting to defuse the situation.

"These are my Midgardian friends, Sif. They are here to help us."

"Loki is no friend of mine," Sif declared angrily, glaring between Taylor and Loki.

He pretended as though her words wounded him, placing a hand to his chest theatrically.

"After all we've been through, Sif?" he mocked.

She snarled at him, looking for just a moment like she was actually going to impale him on her sword (and Taylor in the process) before Thor answered. Taylor took that moment to elbow Loki solidly in the ribs, a silent warning to knock it off, the trickster assumed.

"We need his help."

"And we'd appreciate it if you didn't stab our friend," Steve added helpfully.

"Yeah, I like my guts as they are, thank you."

There was silence for a moment as Sif slowly lowered her sword, and then Tony tactfully broke it.

"So…lunch?"

* * *

They were enjoying a late meal outside, in one of the open banquet halls. Most of the superheroes were settled at a large wooden table in the shade, but Taylor was basking in the sun at the top of the steps, just a few feet away. Her face was turned into the light while she soaked up the warmth the reflection off the buildings provided. It was nice to be still for a moment, even with the quiet murmur of her friends just off to the side. She was still exhausted and sore from their activities the night before, and the sunlight was making her mind pleasantly hazy.

The food was delicious, but rich for someone like her, who survived mostly off salads and high-protein diets to accommodate the literal thousands of calories she burned per day. Not used to filling up so quickly, she picked at what remained of her meal, listening idly to the Avenger's conversation. Loki sat leisurely across from her, his back against the adjacent column.

He, too, seemed to have lost his appetite, but Taylor suspected for an entirely different reason. Sif had joined them and kept casting sharp looks their way. Taylor suspected the prince was waiting to be seized at any moment to continue his rather redundant punishment. She wondered if Thor could convince Odin to extend his brief reprieve, at least until the perpetrators for the lost villagers were apprehended. Something told her that Asgardian law didn't have a parole for good behavior clause.

"You seem troubled," the subject of her thoughts spoke up suddenly.

She couldn't admit that she was worried about him and the plunge his disposition was taking. As irritating as Loki could be, she preferred his larger than life attitude, god-sized ego, and even the diva sulking tantrums in comparison to the quiet, subdued way he was acting now. It occurred to her that he might just be putting on an act—god of lies and mischief and all that—but for whose benefit she couldn't decipher. It certainly wasn't going to work with Thor across the room, and Loki wasn't one to desire sympathy for sympathy's sake.

"So do you," she countered, sipping from her goblet (an actual goblet, holy smokes) of water.

"With good reason," he pointed out, gesturing subtly towards the female warrior attempting to turn him to ash with nothing more than her intense gaze.

Taylor half-smiled, pretending not to have noticed the woman's glare and stared out at the foreign city, shifting so she her legs were crossed, her plate abandoned in front of her. She was just about to speak when a booming, authoritative voice cut her off.

"Once more, you ignore my words and bring creatures that do not belong to our realm."

The appearance of Odin startled Taylor so badly that she jumped and half-scooted behind the column. Loki watched her with no small amount of confusion. She'd courageously throw herself wholeheartedly into battle to protect her precious Midgard, but Odin had scared her all but into hiding with only a few words. The Allfather was imposing, Loki would give the man that, but to cow a woman that so brazenly stood toe to toe with him and others that actively posed a threat to her…he couldn't understand it. What was he missing?

"Father, listen, these are the Avengers. They are the mightiest warriors Earth has to offer and this newest threat is not to be taken lightly," Thor began explaining.

Taylor blinked and slid a sideways look to Loki, keeping her voice low so as not to draw attention to them.

"He asked permission for this, didn't he?"

"He had Odin's blessing to take me to Midgard to determine and stop the threat," Loki replied.

She grimaced, staying frozen to her position while things were so heated. Everyone in the room was quiet, even Tony for once, awkwardly witnessing the heated exchange between father and son.

"I am sure that whatever the threat is, our warriors will suffice to face it. Take them back to Midgard, let them protect their own realm," Odin commanded angrily.

"That is what we assumed when the Dark Elves came and look what happened," Thor pointed out, "hundreds of our own people were injured and killed, and mother…"

The white-haired man cut him off simply by raising a hand, and Taylor couldn't stop herself from wincing slightly (which Loki noticed), but all that happened was that the prince's words were cut off. Her shoulders dropped with relief, even though it was a bit of an overreaction—it hadn't even really looked like Odin was going to hit Thor. She seriously needed a vacation after this.

"What about me now?" a serene, feminine voice asked.

The woman that Taylor assumed to be Queen Frigga entered the room, draped in a gorgeous blue dress with a shimmery golden shawl around her shoulders. Her hair was trapped in a long braid that fell over one shoulder. Intelligent blue eyes scanned the gathered people, something like relief flooding her timeless features when she finally spotted Loki in the back, at the top of the steps and by the columns. Her gaze paused a moment on the woman only a few feet from him, hair so black it looked blue and wide azure eyes that were surprisingly honest.

"Nothing, mother," Thor lied quickly, but the queen obviously saw through it and did the royal equivalent of an eye roll before offering the group of Midgardians a welcoming smile.

"We are honored to welcome you to Asgard, protectors of Midgard," she told them, placing a hand on her husband's arm gently, "and we are grateful for your service."

There was a long moment of silence before Tony broke it, respectful as usual.

"I like this lady."

* * *

Loki stood, already shackled, runes engraved on the cuffs suppressing his magical abilities. He was not muzzled, a small blessing, but he had to consciously force his cheeks from burning. Taylor stood off to one side, between the Allfather's mighty throne and the trickster god. She looked misplaced and uncomfortable in her Midgardian garments, standing in a room where everyone else was dressed in metal armor or royal dressings. He didn't even understand why she had to be present for this—none of the other Avengers, save for Thor, were present.

"Loki of Asgard, the punishment for your crimes has already been decided, and despite the short intermission in your sentence, you will continue your penance as decreed," Odin stated into the silent room.

The younger god's emerald gaze flicked sideways, to Taylor, who was shifting uneasily, looking as though there was something she badly wanted to say. Best to beat her to it, before she incurred the Allfather's wrath. The superheroes were already skating on thin ice with his adopted father.

"Predictable as ever," Loki replied to the king, as though pleased, unable to keep himself from some snide remark.

Taylor shot him a look that managed to be both blank and severe at the same time. He hid a smirk at the expression, proud that he could flare her temper with three words that weren't even meant for her. Try as she might to hide it, Loki knew she was concerned for him. She'd been inexplicably kind to him while they'd been on Midgard; he'd decided to at least attempt to quell some of her worry in return. He wasn't generally inclined to feel indebted to anyone, especially for treating him as he should be treated, but Taylor had good intentions; he would make an exception just this once.

Frigga caught the momentary contact between the two, silent but meaningful nonetheless, and a small bit of hope for her son flared in her chest. She hadn't seen him look at anyone like that in a long time, short-lived as it was, but so very honest. If anyone knew when Loki was putting on an act, it was Frigga. She could detect his lies from a mile away, but this was no deception. The almost playful look he'd sent the Midgardian woman was genuine.

"Is there something you'd like to say, young lady?" she invited gently.

Taylor's eyes snapped to hers, clearly startled, and she fidgeted a moment under everyone's gaze, trying to find the words. Thor, understanding his young friend's apprehension, placed a large, reassuring hand on her shoulder. Letting out a steadying breath, she dropped her hands and hesitantly began.

"We still need Loki's help. He knows the locations of the gateways better than anyone and his knowledge as of this moment is invaluable…" she paused here, clearly trying to organize her racing thoughts into cohesion; her eloquence surprised the king and queen, "locking him in a dungeon will not only make him difficult to access for his expertise, but also vulnerable if our enemy realizes his importance in stopping them."

Having stated her point, without lying no less, she lapsed into silence, eyes darting first to Odin, then Thor, Loki, and finally Frigga, who nodded at the younger woman slightly, pleased. The Allfather leaned forwards in his golden seat, and it was hard to determine if the small smile on his face was genuine or one of condescension.

"What do you suggest then, my dear?"

She swallowed thickly before taking a fortifying breath in, shaking her instinct to look away. He may have been the Allfather, but it wasn't like he was going to hurt her or anything. Besides, Thor was right there beside her, no need to freak out.

"Maybe just leaving him as he was on Earth? The Avengers and Thor are all here to watch him. The way I see it, there's no more risk in allowing him to wander around here than there…as long as someone keeps an eye on him anyway."

Loki felt something in his chest shift and he wasn't sure if it was pleasant or not. He'd call it heartburn, but not as painful. By all rights, he should be telling her to shut up. Never before had he let someone fight his battles for him, and he was reluctant to do so now. However, knowing the look on Odin's face, the Allfather was seriously considering her proposition, and Loki would rather swallow his pride for a moment than be constricted to that cell again so soon.

"As long as someone keeps an eye on him," the king repeated thoughtfully before levelling the superhero with a flat look, "like you?"

To her credit, she only stumbled for a fraction of a second before answering—hardly noticeable to anyone other than Loki. Obviously, this scenario hadn't occurred to her when she'd decided to bargain for more time for him.

"Yes," she replied confidently, "like me."

Frigga and the Allfather exchanged glances. The queen was rather surprised and grateful that the Midgardian woman would intervene on her son's behalf. The two hadn't known each other for very long at all, she knew that, and Loki couldn't have been very easy to be around, but still she tried to help him. As for Odin, he was begrudgingly impressed with her boldness and honesty. She spoke passionately, but well, with control. Neither one doubted that despite her quiet exterior, she was a warrior worthy of her title as one of Midgard's defenders. There was power surging in those veins—enough to hold Loki in check, anyway.

"Very well then," Odin began decisively, "you will be his keeper until such time that our mutual enemy has been stopped. You will be held responsible for his actions and any damages he causes during this time. Do you understand?"

She pretended as though the task didn't intimidate her and nodded. Keep Loki under control? It sounded nearly impossible. Loki smirked to himself, seeing endless possibilities for mischief in the near future.

"Got it," she confirmed verbally as well, as if to reassure herself.

The king waved a hand at the man standing before his throne.

"Release him from his chains."

The guards came forward, hesitantly, and unlocked them. Loki jerked, as if he were about to attack and they stumbled back, clearly startled. Taylor simply rolled her eyes and turned back to the Allfather, not sure what to say. It was weird to say "thank you" considering she hadn't exactly asked for a personal favor (although it truthfully was one) so she decided instead for a simple nod of the head and looked at Thor. He smiled at the much shorter woman and jerked his head towards where the trickster god was already leaving.

"Wait up," she groaned, trailing after his quick steps, "your legs are ridiculously long."

When both had disappeared down the hall, Thor turned to his father, pleased that Taylor had managed to convince him to allow Loki some freedom, but confused as to why.

"What caused this change of heart, father?"

"She is a persuasive woman," the older man explained with a rarely seen amused smile, "and your mother believes there may be some hope for Loki after all."

Thor turned away, towards where the two dark-haired individuals had disappeared. He'd known that Taylor was a positive influence, despite her own negative upbringing, but could she really influence his brother into becoming the man he had once been? The prince hoped so, or else he would be forced to watch the one he'd called brother for years rot away in a prison cell.


	8. Chapter 8

It was night by then, but Taylor was having a difficult time sleeping, tired as she was. It certainly wasn't the accommodations. She'd been provided with a room to rival her own in Stark Tower, it was cavernous in its spaciousness, with one wall that was practically nothing but window and a wide balcony to match. The bed was heavenly as well. She had no idea what materials the mattress and pillows were made of, but god, they were perfect.

Unfortunately, it seemed that it was her mind, as per usual, that was keeping her from rest. Images of Loki kept springing to mind. Half of them were X-rated, provided courtesy of her unconscious fantasies the night before. The other half were of him, walking away without a word or glance after their meeting with Odin. He'd stormed off to his room before she could get a word in and slammed the door for good measure behind him, like a child throwing a tantrum. Well, she wouldn't bend to his will and go calling after him. They'd speak when he was acting mature. Even so…

A sigh that evolved into a frustrated groan marked the end of her attempts to lay down, relax, unsuccessfully attempting to keep her treacherous brain from straying to him. She threw the covers back, and padded out in her pajamas, deeming them appropriate enough to accidentally be caught in if someone else was wandering about in the late hours. The exact time was hard to determine since she didn't have a clock, but she assumed most people were asleep by that point.

Padding out into the hallway, she navigated the hallways aimlessly, hoping that walking would help her mind relax. Before she knew it, she found herself in a garden, sparingly lit, but beautiful even in the darkness. She wandered along the path, eyes tracing over leafy silhouettes when a rather human one suddenly caught her attention as it stepped in her way. Minding the foliage, she lit a small ball of fire in her hands and raised an eyebrow when she saw Loki.

Extinguishing the flame, she treaded closer, half expecting him to turn and walk away again, but pleasantly surprised when he did not. Not quite within arm's reach, she stopped, able to make out most of his features. They stood staring at each other for a moment before she spoke.

"Still acting like a child?"

He snorted, folding his arms behind his back.

" _I'm_ acting like a child?" he scoffed, "You do realize you were dancing on a bridge earlier, don't you?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, though she assumed he couldn't see it in the dark. In fact, Loki could see it. His vision at night was far keener than hers, especially with a simple spell, and he was able to distinguish her much more clearly than she could him.

"Right, but I wasn't stomping off and slamming doors in people's faces," she countered, waving a hand angrily.

Ah, he'd been hoping it would irk her and it appeared it had—enough that she was bringing it up, at least. He had his own bone to pick with her, but he planned to get some entertainment out of it in the process.

"What else were you expecting?" he questioned coolly, raising an eyebrow that she was just able to discern in the darkness, "Gratitude? Would you like me to grovel at your feet and shower praise upon you for giving me a few more blessed day's reprieve from my cursed prison?"

She took a step closer, partially to see him better, but also in response to his mocking tone. What an asshole!

"Well maybe not all that, but a 'thank you' would sure as hell be nice," she snapped.

"Oh, and I supposed I ought to be grateful you're my keeper as well," he added incredulously, rolling his eyes.

"Well, gee, Loki, I didn't realize I was so tough to be around. Too damn bad you got stuck with me and not Tony or something like that, right?"

The god took a step closer as well, closing some of the distance between them, his blood humming in his veins. Taylor had a way of making his pulse race in any situation, one way or another. At the moment, he was enjoying returning the favor. That blush hadn't been on her cheeks a moment ago.

"Please," he sneered, "as if I would want someone watching my every move. It's insulting."

She rolled her eyes.

"Gosh, I guess you shouldn't try to take over an entire planet next time, then, if you didn't want to be supervised all the time."

Loki snarled at her, the remark hitting a small nerve. He was expecting this though, of course, so it didn't irritate him that badly.

"Supervised," he scoffed, "more like dictated."

Her mouth dropped open, outrage and disbelief warring on her fair features. It was becoming a sport for him, making her mad at him.

"Are you trying to insinuate that you'd rather be in a cell?" she demanded.

He tried to make it look convincing when he replied.

"At least there I would be given some iota of privacy and self-government."

Loki felt sure for a good moment that she might actually hit him. Her palms actually glowed for a few moments before she managed to control herself and get her response out through gritted teeth.

"Then feel free to go on back. Don't let me stop you."

She turned on her heel and began away. For a moment he debated letting her go off steaming or trying to make nice. The pros and cons were hard to weigh, but considering she could make his life just as difficult as he could make hers, he decided the latter of the two options was best. He took her arm, nearly snickering when he felt the heat radiating off her. She spun of him, eyes narrowed, mouth set in a hard, angry line.

"I don't need anyone to fight my battles for me."

He didn't expect the disgusted noise she made, jerking her arm from his grasp.

"Get over yourself. I wasn't fighting your battles for you; I was trying to help you, jackass. You know, because I'm nice like that. It wasn't an attack on your honor or anything, but damn, I'm sorry it was a shot to your ego, sweetheart," she wasn't sorry at all, "Next time I'll keep my mouth shut, since you and Odin are obviously the best of pals right now. You've got him wrapped around your little finger, am I right?"

She turned with a huff and began storming away.

"I'm going to bed," she muttered, raking a hand through her midnight hair.

Loki stared after her for a moment, somewhat stunned. His remark about her fighting his battles for him had been eating at him, but it appeared that he'd misread the situation. It didn't sit well with him, but it appeared he'd been wrong and…he owed her an apology. Besides, the last thing he needed was her holding a grudge and making his life harder than it needed to be. He'd accept the hard-earned days of freedom she'd won him and swallow his pride. He started after her, and nearly laughed when he saw her hesitating at the junction of two hallways.

"Taylor," he called.

She went rigid. He assumed it was because she was still angry with him, but really it was because hearing her name come from his mouth like that made her body react in ways she would never, ever admit under the worst torture. Slowly, when she felt her expression was under control, she turned to him, only half of her previous anger still present. True to form she hadn't been paying attention to the twists and turns and she was well and truly lost, so mostly she was embarrassed by that point.

"I had not realized you meant to help me," he began, growing uncomfortable when his carefully practiced apologies suddenly disintegrated but words kept spilling from his mouth, "I am no longer accustomed to anyone trying to help me. I assume everyone means to slight me or do me harm, and it was not right to believe so of you when you've shown me nothing but kindness. I offer my sincerest apologies."

She pressed her lips together for a moment before her shoulders dropped and she turned to him with a forgiving smile.

"I understand," she offered slowly, "I mean, I get not trusting anyone to treat you well."

The discomfort in his chest lightened, but the niggling feeling in the back of his mind persisted.

"Do you?" he questioned curiously, raising his eyebrows.

Her expression softened in the firelight provided by the torches burning along the walls, her normally bright cerulean eyes appearing golden with their reflection. The corners of her mouth tipped down, her usually unwavering gaze avoiding his suddenly, as he remembered they had two nights previous, in the kitchen. There was something Taylor was hiding, something that led to the inconsistencies in her otherwise strong and confident character.

"I don't know," she murmured uncertainly suddenly, turning away, "maybe I'm just reaching. Anyway, we better go to bed—I mean, uh, we should get some sleep…separately. In our rooms."

She shook her head slightly, as if clearing it as Loki attempted to hide a grin. It was funny, watching her speak to royalty so articulately, but stumble over inflections in harmless words. Intelligent as she was, Taylor didn't always seem to be the most adept at speaking.

"I agree," he cut off her stammering smoothly, "we have a lot of work to do tomorrow."

She nodded, looking relieved that he hadn't poked fun at her—at least not this time. He started away, relieved that they'd made some sort of truce, but she grabbed his arm suddenly, biting into her bottom lip with embarrassment. His brain trailed off without his permission as he eyes locked onto her mouth, wondering what it would be like to sink his own teeth into the soft flesh…

"I um…I don't know where my room is."

Loki blinked, banishing such thoughts, and covered his moment of weakness with a chuckle. She flushed, clearing her throat.

"Give me a break, this palace is huge," she reasoned defensively, brows pulling together slightly.

"I will escort you back to your room," he agreed with a half-smile, offering her his arm.

With an amused expression, she accepted it, the warm length of her side pressed into his as they began down the corridor. They hadn't been this close to each other since the battle, and it filled each with a strange sort of electricity. Loki wasn't sure what to make of the Midgardian. Half the time she drove him crazy with her childish antics and fiery attitude. The other half, it was almost impossible to keep up with her—the kindness, the offer of friendship without asking for anything in return…

"I almost forgot to ask," she spoke up suddenly, glancing at him sideways, "why are you up so late anyway?"

He shot her a sideways look. Like Taylor, Loki's mind hadn't left him to peace. Thoughts of being in Asgard again and puzzling out whatever was able to transport the fire demons had keep a small portion of his mind awake. Mostly, however, his thoughts had looped back to the raven-haired female strolling contentedly by his side, infuriatingly enough. He'd thought a stroll in the cool night air would clear his head—just his luck that the object of his attention appeared right in front of him. Of course, he couldn't just admit that to her, so he quickly conjured an excuse.

"It's been awhile since I've been able to see the stars of my home world. I wanted to enjoy them while I could. What about you?" Partially true, he felt better about it than a full lie, oddly enough.

Her hesitation to answer was far more noticeable, and this time she didn't have a subtle evasion prepared, so she settled on a clumsy, vague truth.

"My mind wouldn't settle down," she nodded, as if internally coaching herself, "I couldn't get to sleep. I thought walking around a little would help."

The god shot her knowing sideways look, mentally debating if he should pursue questioning her further. Perhaps another time, he decided as a yawn suddenly gripped him. Taylor was his "keeper" after all. They would be spending the next day looking for answers in the library, and maybe he could find an excuse to be near her without her righteous entourage to interrupt them. He still wanted to unravel her mystery.

"Perhaps tomorrow I can take you on a tour of the palace," he suggested, "you might not have as much luck in finding me next time you go on one of your midnight escapades."

She snorted, but a grin turned the corners of her mouth up anyway. Ah, some success at last.

"Well, let's hope I don't have too many sleepless nights," she muttered.

Loki silently echoed the sentiment.

* * *

"Loki, I can't even read this," Taylor sighed, gingerly closing an ancient tome and pushing it away from her, "I'm completely useless here."

They'd been at it since the sunrise; it was close to midday and Loki had made minimal progress in solving their riddle. There were countless ancient artifacts and spells to sift through, and going back and forth between records was tedious. It also didn't help that Taylor wasn't able to read anything other than English and a surprising amount of Russian—not that anything in the library was actually written in Russian. She'd been muttering Russian expletives under her breath for a while.

"Not just here," Loki muttered moodily under his breath.

Her azure eyes shot to him and narrowed for a moment.

"I'm choosing to ignore that and attributing it to low blood sugar and frustration." She perked up suddenly, "You know what, why don't I make myself useful and grab us a bite to eat?"

"That's the most helpful suggestion you've had all day," he agreed with relief as his stomach growled.

"Choosing to ignore that as well," she said airily as she got to her feet and adjusted her Asgardian clothing.

Luckily, Sif seemed to have a steady supply of pants made for herself, so it was no trouble to give the "royal seamstress" person Natasha and Taylor's measurements so neither would be forced into heavy dresses and corsets. Well, they still had to wear corsets, unfortunately, but at least they were flexible. Taylor didn't feel as if her ribs were about to break just by sitting down—always a plus. Her wardrobe had come in varying shades of gray, black, gold, and brown. Taylor wasn't keen on brown, but it was all still very feminine and badass.

As she stood from her chair and stretched, she cast her big blues towards the god she'd spent a good chunk of the day with. He looked slightly irritated, but focused, determined. It was nice, to see his usual scowl replaced with something normal, like concentration. That little furrow between his brows was almost cute…

"Taylor? Food?"

She blinked, realized that, once again, she'd been caught, and nodded.

"Right. I'm hungrier than I thought, I guess," she lied. Wow, bad idea. Time to distract him. "What do you want to eat?"

Fortunately for her, Loki seemed more intent on research and the promise of food than picking apart her every word as per usual. She breathed a mental sigh of relief as he answered her offhandedly, flipping another page in a dusty book. His ability to multitask was really beginning to impress her. Taylor had known Loki was extremely intelligent, but he had an impressive amount of discipline to back it up.

"Whatever you're having is fine, I'm sure."

"Got it," she assured him confidently, glad to have some sort of mission at last, "be right back."

While she was sympathetic to both her and Loki's need for sustenance, Taylor was in no hurry to get back to library. She strolled through the open hallways, enjoying the sun hitting her skin between archways as she meandered towards a banquet hall. She had no idea how she'd carry two plates of food, plus drinks, but she figured she'd solve that problem when it came up. For a moment, she'd just take it easy.

"Lady Cadence."

Moment over.

"Taylor," she corrected automatically as she turned, "Taylor is fine."

Surprise, it was Sif. Actually, that was a surprise. She hadn't spoken a word to Taylor since the Asgardian had given serious thought to running the Avenger through to get to Loki.

"My apologies," a pause, "Taylor. I just wanted to speak with you."

Also a surprise.

"Without Loki."

Not a surprise.

"What is it?" Taylor questioned, trying to stick her hands in her pockets. Except she didn't have pockets. Stupid Asgardian wardrobe.

"I just wanted to apologize for my behavior yesterday. I understand I alarmed you," Sif explained.

Taylor was getting one of those creepy doppelganger feelings. Sif had dark hair (though not so dark it was practically blue) and blue eyes (though not quite the same shade) like Taylor. They were remarkably similar in build as well, and yet…Taylor felt as if they were complete opposites all the same.

"Nah, you didn't really alarm me. Concerned me, maybe, but no harm done. It's alright," Taylor assured her, thinking the conversation would be over so she could get some lunch.

She was beginning to realize that taking her time had been a serious mistake. Socializing was not on the Taylor's-list-of-unnecessary-to-dos list. Her current plan: food, library, food, and possibly the tour Loki promised her. Hopefully along the way she'd be able to catch a conversation or two with her friends—she wasn't used to not seeing any of them all day. There was always someone in the tower that she saw before lunchtime.

"Wait," Sif said, making the Midgardian pause, "could you perhaps…do me the honor of a fight?"

Taylor blinked. The lady had just gotten through apologizing and she wanted to start crap all over again? Not that there had been crap to begin with—just a sword pointed towards Taylor's internal organs.

"A fight?" she questioned, brow furrowing.

No offense to the warrior lady, but Taylor could control _energy_ for Pete's sake. They weren't exactly in the same weight class in that sense.

"Ah, it must sound differently to you, but in Asgard, disputes are often settled with friendly battle."

Like Taylor and Bucky, although that's not how they settled "disputes". No, settling disputes involved rock-paper-scissors, ping-pong, and a prank war that usually ended in magnets and fire-extinguishers. Friendly battle made sense though. The Avengers had friendly fights all the time—that was, like, ninety percent of training.

"Oh, uh, sure, but let's be quick. Loki and I both need to eat and since he's still working, I volunteered to play waitress."

From the expression on Sif's face, the woman had only understood about half of what Taylor had just said, but it seemed to be enough as they began in the direction Sif had hailed her from. Gosh, Taylor really hoped that the unsettled feeling in her gut was just hunger rather than something else

* * *

Taylor hadn't been gone more than fifteen minutes when Loki finally found something of importance. He bolted to his feet, all thoughts of food forgotten and went to head her off, hoping she would be with her friends so that he wouldn't have to waste time rounding them all up. As it turned out, just finding _Taylor_ was proving to be difficult, as she wasn't in the banquet hall even she knew was just a few corners away.

He used a spell to find her recent footprints and followed them. Strange, they were leading right to the training fields. Why would she go there? Surely she couldn't have been sidetracked so far when she'd been so hungry. He picked up the pace, impatient to tell her his findings. He rounded a corner, following the magically recreated path, just in time to hear someone shriek and see a flash of dark hair before a rather feminine someone collided with him. Loki caught them automatically and stumbled back a step to keep his balance.

"Oh, thank caffeine it's you! Save me, please!" Taylor begged, fingers curling into the fabric of his clothes.

"What? What are you talking about?" he questioned confusedly, viridian eyes scanning her face, "Save you from what?"

There was a slice in her lip and a scrape on her forehead, dirt and dust covered Taylor's face and clothes. Her raven locks had come loose from its plait and fell around her in a dark, wavy tumble. She was panting, blue eyes bright and somewhat frightened. All in all, she looked much worse off than when she'd left the library—like she'd been in a fight, and possibly lost.

"Not what," she gasped, ducking behind him and placing her hands on his shoulders, "who."

His raised his arm slightly, trying to decode her strange panic attack and give her a serious look at the same time. She pressed her forehead between his shoulder blades lightly, breathing heavily, as if she'd just run a great distance. How was he supposed to help her if she kept acting ridiculous? When had helping her even been put on the table, for that matter?

"Who?"

"Sif."

Just as the name left her lips, the warrior herself appeared, a sword clutched in her hand. She looked angry—but then she always looked that way to Loki.

"Where is she?" the Asgardian demanded, brandishing her weapon at him threateningly.

He didn't react except to raise an eyebrow coolly, his mind still working to piece together exactly what had happened in fifteen minutes or so that would lead Sif to try to kill Taylor.

"You'll have to be more specific about who," he stated, smirking when the woman bared her teeth at him.

"Taylor Cadence, of Midgard."

"Friendly fight my prize-winning donkey," the superhero chimed in derisively from behind him.

"Stop hiding and face me," the Asgardian demanded, scowling through the god towards the woman seeking refuge behind him.

Taylor's head popped out to the side of his shoulder.

"No!" she refused indignantly, "You'll try to stab me again, and I've had enough of you trying to stab me, sister."

Loki put his hands in the air, silently calling for a ceasefire. He had more important things to do than be a buffer between the two women—like telling them the reason for why the fire giants were taking villages. It seemed the problem was Sif. Taylor seemed, for once, the one that wasn't goofing off, although he had a feeling she wasn't helping much either.

"What happened?" he inquired.

Sif sighed, dropping her weapon and her aggressive stance slightly.

"You two are in league together," she stated plainly.

That wasn't helpful. In fact, it made everything even more puzzling than before. Loki and Taylor could barely get along for more than few minutes. What made Sif think the two could ever be in league together? He tried appealing to the other one. Perhaps Taylor could shed some light on the situation. He looked at her over his shoulder.

"What is she talking about?"

"Well, you see, she came up to me when I was going to get lunch, to apologize for yesterday, and then she asked if we could have a 'friendly fight' so of course I said yes," Taylor began in a rush, obviously realizing that she needed to speak quickly or her human shield would abandon her.

"Of course," he agreed, rolling his eyes, "because that's logical."

She narrowed her gaze at him.

"I do not need your sass right now."

"Continue," he commanded on a sigh.

"So I agreed, and we came out here, and at first it was fine even though I've never used a sword in my life and then I mentioned you and being your keeper and she drew some weird conclusion and tried to kill me," she concluded in one breath.

He blinked for second, brain catching up with her rapid speaking.

"Did you not try to defend yourself?" he questioned incredulously, raising an eyebrow.

Now it was her turn to roll her eyes.

"Well, of course, but she's better with a sword than I am."

"You can control fire."

Taylor whined—clearly he just wasn't getting it.

"Well yes, but I'm not going to use it on her," she explained as though it were obvious.

Ah yes, he remembered. Taylor may have been tolerable, but she was still a friend of Thor's, and Sif was a lifelong friend of the prince as well. The young Avenger wouldn't risk injuring such a respected and beloved warrior over a misunderstanding. He really needed to have a discussion with Taylor about her self-preservation instincts—and using him as a shield. Yes, he really needed to talk to her about that as well.

"Alright, well, we don't have time for any more games or attempted murders. I found something important in the library," he informed her.

She snapped to attention immediately. The change was quite remarkable really. She went from theatrically worried to solemn and attentive almost immediately. She straightened up, released his shoulders, and fixed him with an expectant look.

"Show me."

He took her hand and led her away, back to the library, ignoring Sif's protestations along the way. Thor was leaning over a book Loki had left open, skimming the page when they entered. He glanced up, smiling at them with his usual charm.

"I was wondering where you two went," he greeted, "what happened to you, Taylor?"

"Long story," Taylor replied tersely, "Loki says he found something."

The golden prince reacted similarly to Taylor and approached them as Loki stopped at the passage he'd found. He knew Taylor couldn't read it, but Thor could to corroborate him, and there were at least pictures for her. She leaned over his shoulder when he sat at the table, her loose hair brushing his cheek slightly. Taking a (slightly shaky) breath, he began reading for her benefit.

"Centuries ago, there was a powerful Asgardian wizard named Keziah that served as advisor to Odin's father, King Bor. He was gifted from a young age, apprenticed under the most talented magicians in all the Nine Realms, but eventually, his abilities far surpassed any other's. He is the one that created the Bifrost, and also the one that contained and hid the Aether from Malakith."

Loki paused here, making sure Taylor understood the gravity of who he was speaking of.

"The Aether?" she repeated, "As in that stuff that nearly killed Jane and destroyed the universe?"

"Yes."

Her eyes widened slightly and she nodded for him to go on.

"Keziah served under King Bor for years, highly respected and celebrated as the greatest magician in all of time, and eventually apprenticed his own pupil."

"I have never heard of him before," Thor remarked, frowning, "Father never mentioned him. Surely he must have known Keziah, even as a boy."

Taylor glanced at the prince for a moment, pressing her lips together. Odin seemed to have a habit for keeping secrets. It was giving her an antsy feeling beneath the skin.

"What happened?" she asked Loki, choosing not to point out her observation.

"Forbidden magic," Loki answered, emerald eyes scanning through the passage he had already practically memorized, "he was experimenting with necromancy, mostly, and influencing his student into doing so as well."

Taylor frowned, staring at the image of the man standing over a flaming boat. In the picture, it was obviously a dead soldier, but the man standing over him wore strange robes and an amulet around his neck. The face was blurred though, like someone had tried to scratch it out.

"Necromancy," she repeated, "like raising people from the dead?"

"Yes. There is some magic that is powerful, but forbidden to be used, long before even King Bor ruled. Not even I would attempt it," Loki replied.

Taylor wasn't about to show her surprise, or skepticism. Loki, the king of poor life choices, was calling hands off on something powerful and forbidden? Must have been worse than she thought.

"Other than, obviously, raising the dead being bad, why is some magic forbidden?" she asked.

"While it is powerful," he began, "it is also dangerous, and it usually bends or even breaks the laws of nature, which sorcerers are warned to never tamper with."

She grimaced, wiping at her mouth where she felt blood still leaking. Jeez, that was irritating. This was serious and she was getting blood everywhere. How inconvenient.

"So this Keziah guy was using forbidden magic and then what happened?" she asked.

"They locked him in the tower he was using for experimenting and the same sorcerers that had trained him placed enchantments on it so that he could not leave or perform magic from within. When his apprentice tried to free him, Keziah was killed and the student was believed to have perished as well."

Thor flipped the page, but apparently it didn't have what he wanted and he turned back, glaring at the book.

"If he is dead, what good does this do us?" he demanded.

Loki, sighed heavily, dramatically.

"They never found the apprentice's body. Perhaps they survived, much like the Dark Elves, and are trying to revive Keziah"

Taylor bit her lip, thinking.

"So those villages…they're sacrifices to bring this powerful magician back?" she guessed aloud.

"That is my best guess at the moment," Loki replied with grim satisfaction, "there is no other alternative. Any artifacts that could be used are either accounted for, lost, or destroyed. There are no magicians other than myself who could pull off a spell like that."

Taylor straightened, running a hand through her hair. This was getting way more complicated than anyone had expected, she could feel it, and there was something they were missing. They were close, on the right track, but she couldn't quite grasp what it was.

"I will go inform the Avengers," Thor stated, picking up his hammer. He paused for a moment before adding, "Excellent work, Loki."

Taylor leaned against the table and crossed her arms, as Loki closed the book, conspicuously silent after Thor's departing words.

"So why aren't there any magicians other than you that could do a spell?" she inquired after a moment.

"I had not understood why until now, but I suppose the disaster with Keziah caused the discouragement of it. It is only because I am—was—a prince that I was allowed to study it. My mothe—Queen Frigga taught me everything I know."

Feeling an unusual wave of bravery from the note of sadness in his voice at the end of his explanation, she reached out and placed her hand in his. Taylor was prepared for him to pull away. Instead, his hand closed briefly around her fingers, a gentle squeeze, before relaxing again. He glanced at her, eyes flicking from the new wounds to the old.

"You should take care of those," he observed.

Having him look at her like that, her head went blank for a solid moment before she realized what he'd said.

"Oh, it's nothing," she assured him as he stood and bent towards her, turning her face this way and that.

He was leaning over her, and Taylor found herself not altogether unwelcomely trapped between Loki and the table while he examined her wounds. Her breath hitched, and suddenly her rapid heartbeat was twice as loud. They were standing much closer than they normally allowed themselves to be. Actually, she noticed they'd been coming into physical contact with each other often as of late, when they were usually so careful about maintaining space between themselves.

"Loki."

Thor's voice broke the trance and Loki stepped away from her, blinking rapidly. Taylor too, had to shake her head slightly to clear it. Whatever was going on was freaking her out. She didn't act like that with anyone—least of all Loki. What was wrong with her?

"I want you to come with me to speak to father about Keziah," the prince explained, apparently oblivious to the two.

"Very well," Loki agreed, straightening his clothes and letting out a breath.

He glanced at Taylor once last time before leaving the library with his adopted brother. The female, left to her own devices for a moment, ran a hand through her hair and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Things were getting difficult, and things were getting difficult _quickly_.

"Food," she muttered to herself as her heartbeat faded from her ears, "I need to eat before I pass out."

Right, low blood sugar was why she felt lightheaded, not of a certain sullen prince in need of a serious attitude adjustment. She practically ran to the banquet hall, and almost screeched to a halt when she saw everyone was already there, speaking amongst themselves. As soon as they saw her, the conspicuously got quiet, and Bucky's eyebrows quirked in way that she knew meant the others were aggravating him.

"Wow, that's not suspicious at all," Taylor remarked flatly, placing her hands on her hips.

"We want to talk to you…" Steve started.

"But first, what happened to your face?" Natasha interrupted, frowning.

"Lady Sif and I got into a small altercation. No worries. Why are you all standing around looking like a bunch of gossiping teenagers?"

"Don't get upset with us…" Bruce began with hesitation.

She raised an eyebrow. Taylor couldn't remember the last time she was really upset with any of them. Sure, they could get on her nerves just like any family. Hell that was practically an expectation of living in the tower with all those different personality types. Getting upset? They must have done something extra special stupid.

"Okay…" she replied expectantly, slowly moving towards the table to get herself a plate of food.

"I told them you could handle yourself," Bucky interrupted, and Clint chimed in with "same".

"Which, we know you can," Tony added, scowling at the two men, "there's no doubt that you can take care of yourself…"

They started talking one after the other, in pretty much the same concerned tone of voice.

"We're just worried about you." Steve.

"Things are getting crazy and we don't want you to get distracted." Natasha.

Taylor definitely agreed with the crazy part.

"Or hurt." Bruce.

Taylor was getting suspicious. They were dancing around the subject, which wasn't like them—especially Natasha.

"Guys, what is this about?" Taylor demanded.

"Just…take it easy," Tony, going into rambling mode no less, "Maybe sit down. Someone get some water, or a fire extinguisher or—"

"They're worried about you and Loki," Bucky cut them off, rolling his eyes.

Her shoulders dropped and she let out a relieved breath, chuckling.

" _That's_ what this is about?" she laughed, sitting down and digging into her food, "I thought it was something serious."

"This is serious," Natasha insisted, sitting next to the younger woman, "Taylor, he's dangerous."

Taylor snorted, waiting until her mouth wasn't stuffed full of vegetables to speak.

"So am I," she replied cockily, "Loki's got nothing on me."

Bucky smiled to himself and plopped down on the other side of his friend, ignoring her protestations when he snitched bread from her plate.

"Told you guys," he said, "She's got everything under control."

She elbowed him lightly in the ribs, continuing her meal without even pausing when her arm brushed his metal one. It had taken him a long time to accept it as a part of him—and even longer to not be self-conscious about it. It had thrown Taylor when she first met him, but now it was just another part of her friend—and amusing one for sticking magnets to, actually.

The others relaxed and engaged in conversations and food; Taylor mentally scoffed at them. They had been worried about her with Loki. What did they think—that she was romancing him or something? Had they actually thought she'd be in love with the arrogant god when they hadn't even known each other a week? Sure, she liked Loki when she didn't want to punch him, and she _was_ trying to befriend him, but that didn't mean the two had some sort of clandestine tristes going on.

"It's purely tactical right?" Clint asked suddenly, grinning, "You're just trying to get on his good side so he won't be a dick about helping us."

Taylor opened her mouth to tell him that he was so wrong, bananas and peanut butter seemed right, but she hesitated when she saw the other's faces. "Yes" was clearly the right answer. Anything else would be weird, and probably launch them into another lecture that would be a lot harder to talk them down from. She couldn't bring herself to lie and tell them what they wanted to hear though. Bucky, noticing her facial expression about to give her away, intervened on her behalf.

"Of course," he scoffed, "now c'mon Taylor, we should clean up that mess you call your face."

Thanking him a thousand times through eye contact alone, she got to her feet with him and stuck her tongue out at him.

"Whose face are you calling a mess, mountain man?" she joked in reference to the rather impressive stubble he was sporting.

"I'll shave tomorrow morning, give me break," he laughed in response as they left.

They strolled in silence, past the medical wing, where he grabbed some supplies to patch her up with, all the way to her room. They sat at the table in her room while he went to work cleaning the wounds Sif had given her. He waited until he'd fixed her lip before he spoke.

"So what's really going on with you and Loki?" he questioned.

"What do you mean?" she bluffed.

He stopped just long enough to give her flat, unimpressed look that very clearly stated "bitch, please". She sighed, giving in and he went back to work with satisfaction, waiting for her to speak.

"Just friends, I think," she began, "hard to tell with him."

He nodded.

"That's it?" he inquired.

"Pretty much," she confirmed, "I just think he's had enough punishment. He's been in prison for a while, he helped save the universe and nearly died doing so—and while saving Thor no less…I just think second chances should be offered."

He raised his eyebrows, straightening slightly as he finished up, mouth set in a skeptical line.

"From what Thor said, he was offered a lot of chances," he remarked fairly.

She nodded distractedly, running a hand through her hair.

"Not every time is a good time, Bucky," she pointed out quietly.

Taylor knew that more than anyone. Once, when she'd still been in high school, her stepmother had gotten angry with her over something Taylor couldn't remember six years later; she just knew it wasn't a valid reason to hit her with a wooden rolling pin a good few times. The day after that, Taylor had had gym class, and while she'd been changing in the locker room, Miss Snow had caught sight of the mottled bruising on her back and ribs. Taylor had been dragged to the counselor, where they'd asked her if she was being abused.

She'd adamantly denied it, explaining that she'd taken a tumble off her bike. What else was she supposed to say? That she was being abused? What then? They would have dragged her off to some crappy orphanage. She'd been a danger to herself and her own family as it was, putting her in a home with dozens of other kids would have been catastrophic. So she'd lied her ass off and gone home only to be yelled at because the office had called her house with "concerns". No, not every time was a good time to offer redemption.

"Hey, I get it," Bucky agreed, raising his hands in mock surrender.

He knew Taylor, and he trusted her judgement. If she wanted to befriend the grouchy god, that was her business, and he'd support her one-hundred percent. She was a tough cookie. Should she get more than she bargained for, and she got hurt, he'd stand by with tubs of ice cream and action movies with strong female leads while she kicked Loki's ass.

"We all just want you to be happy, you know," he added, tipping his head at her endearingly.

"I know," she admitted, the corners of her lips quirking in an attempt at a reassuring smile.

"Hey," he said, taking her hand since he knew her shoulder was injured, "I got your back no matter what. We all do. You're family to all of us."

She beamed at him, and it was one of those smiles that could have put the sun to shame. Abruptly, she pulled away to wipe at her watery eyes. Oh, jeez, he'd made her cry again. He accidentally did that sometimes—although to be fair, she'd gotten Bucky too, more times than he was willing to admit. He pulled her into a hug, letting her go only after she'd stopped sniffling.

"You guys are my family too," she said, smiling at him.

A knock on the door cut the moment short and they both looked curiously in the direction of the wooden stood and tugged the door opened, cerulean eyes widening when she saw Loki on the other side, looking somewhat weary.

"Hey," she said, surprising coloring her voice just a tad.

"Hell—were you crying?"

Did he have to sound so appalled? She blinked, clearing her eyes of any leftover tears. She'd barely been crying! Was it really that obvious?

"No." Crap.

His eyebrows shot up, his expression both amused that she would try to lie to him and appropriately skeptical. She was effectively caught. Behind her, Bucky recognized the voice and scooted past her, making his escape to give the two some privacy.

"I'll see you later, doll," he called over his shoulder as he went down the hall.

"See you," she replied brightly before turning back to the Asgardian ex-prince and pretended her cheeks didn't color at the look on his face. "What's up?"

"Care to tell me what you 'weren't' crying about?" he questioned.

"It was nothing," she replied vehemently, and it did not go unnoticed by either of how passionately she said it. Time to change the subject. "How did the meeting with Odin go?"

Odin. Not "your dad" because Loki didn't view he Allfather as his father. Not anymore. He'd probably get mad at her if she referenced the King of Asgard like that, and she really wanted Loki around at the moment. Around him, it was easy to ignore and even forget her past, even when it tried to ambush her. Even with his insults and their arguing, he never really reminded her of her life pre-Avengers—except for those times she drew parallels between themselves.

Would he see them too, if she told him? As she opened the door wider to allow him through, she hesitated. The sudden urge to tell him had the words at the tip of her tongue, but she stopped. Taylor hadn't spoken to anyone about her childhood, and she probably never would. It was too painful, and she didn't relish the reactions she anticipated if she came clean.

"Intense," he replied on a sigh as he entered, "Thor must make everything so dramatic."

She snorted and shut the door behind him, claiming a seat at the foot of her bed for their conversation. Loki settled himself in the chair she'd previously been occupying while Bucky had taken care of her wounds.

"We travel to Helheim tomorrow, to speak to their king," Loki informed her, rubbing at his temples like he had a headache.

She tipped her head at him, considering his appearance. He looked…haggard. His eyes had circles under them, his shoulders slanted downwards, and he just seemed tired. Or maybe it was the lighting.

"Did you ever get a chance to eat?" she wondered aloud.

"No, I—"

"Why the hell would you visit me first, then?" she demanded, getting to her feet and leading the way to the door, "C'mon, let's get a bite. You should really take better care of yourself. Honestly…"

As she good-naturedly ranted at him down the hallway, Loki silently wondered to himself how someone could sound so irritated and yet compassionate at the same time.


	9. Chapter 9

"C'mon, doll, I know your boyfriend is gone, but you can't mope around all day."

The glare Taylor shot her friend could quite possibly evaporate the polar icecaps and by all rights, Bucky should have been barely more than a pile of ash. Loki had left in the morning with Thor, to speak to the ruler of Helheim, and all the Avengers had risen to see their comrade off. In the process, Taylor had realized the Loki didn't exactly have anyone to see him off or worry for him—except, of course, her. While no one (except Bucky and perhaps Natasha) had been looking, she'd taken his hand, a form of contact that had apparently become acceptable, and met his intense emerald eyes.

"Good luck," she'd offered, and then earnestly added, "and be safe."

Then she'd dropped his hand and cleared her throat, looking away with exaggerated casualness. Tony had appeared just after that and slung an arm around her shoulders, cutting off any response Loki could have given. The two Asgardians had departed directly after that, and the uneasy feeling in Taylor's gut had only increased while the Avengers had spent the last several hours goofing around and keeping themselves busy.

At that moment, Taylor and Bucky were sitting in the stadium-style seating over the training arena while Clint tried to teach Steve and Tony how to shoot a bow and arrow with some accuracy. Natasha was learning how to sword fight with Sif, the sharp sounds of clashing metal an amusing companion to Tony and Steve's light-hearted bickering. Bruce was sitting just a seat below them, citing that physical activity beyond yoga and jogging was an unnecessary risk. Taylor was too tired and sore to even think of exercise, and Bucky had simply opted out because "he could".

"I'm not moping," Taylor grumbled, feeling a light flush bloom across her cheeks, "and he's not my boyfriend."

"Funny how you chose to deny one before the other," the super soldier pointed out slyly, nudging her in the ribs.

He couldn't let it go, could he? Of course not—not that it really bothered her as much as she was pretending it did. Taylor knew he didn't really mean anything by it. He was just teasing her, like always, so she didn't take it personally.

"Shut up," she snorted, shoving him lightly.

Bruce, unable to keep from hearing the conversation, glanced back at her.

"You two _do_ seem rather close," he pointed out.

"Saying we're 'close' is kind of a stretch," she mused, "we just sort of…hang out and bicker and occasionally get along."

Bruce smiled and patted her knee in a gesture that made her feel as though he was condescendingly saying "sure, sure, sweetie" which made her squint slightly. Only he could make himself seem like a smug seventy-year-old grandmother without uttering a word. It was like he'd caught her with some secret high school crush or something. Jeez…

"I thought you were against me being around him," she pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, I'm concerned, but I'm not 'against it'," he admitted, "Tony wanted 'backup' yesterday and I wasn't about to argue with him. You know how he is when he gets into panic mode like that."

She nodded sagely, turning her jewel blue gaze to the arena where the billionaire was doing a rather comical, but still somewhat accurate impression of his sharpshooter instructor, posing with his bow and arrow in hand. Tony was the one that had taught her how to get through her panic attacks and found her a way to work through her nightmares.

After the attack on New York, his PTSD had plagued him. He had a tendency to fly into "panic mode" and it was sometimes better to go along with him rather than try to talk him down. She supposed that her fraternizing with Loki would make him uneasy, considering the god was the cause of the alien invasion in the first place. Taylor resolved to talk to the genius about it later, to set his nerves at ease and reassure him. It was the least she could, after all.

"Taylor," Bruce began again, interrupting her thoughts, "you know—"

He was cutting off by a sudden, ear-splitting screeching noise. All three rose as some sort of winged creature came streaking towards them, a trail of acrid black smoke trailing it. The creature was aimed right for Taylor, who automatically braced for impact, knowing she didn't have enough time to make a run for it. Bucky, quicker than a lightning strike, snatched the gun perpetually holstered at his side, and fired several times into the creatures head and wings.

It went down with a horrible squawk, darting overhead to crash into the training field while they ducked to avoid razor-like obsidian talons. None of them were prepared for the second one that snatched Taylor up, claws digging into her already injured shoulder painfully. She cried out in both pain and surprise as the creature shot up, learning from its comrade's mistake and out of range of both arrows and bullets.

"Let me go," she grunted uselessly, struggling in its grasp.

It was like some gruesome mix between a raptor and a snake, similar to a dragon in that its skin was leathery and dark, though it was dotted with patches of black glass, like armor. The smoke was a complete mystery to her, emitting from a jagged obsidian ridge along its spine. More alarming, it had two tails, each ending in a plume of the volcanic shards. The perfect predator, she thought, as she noticed the Asgardian Sea rushing towards them. She could see the rainbow bridge, and the Bifrost coming closer as well.

She remembered there was a portal somewhere farther out to sea, along the impressive cliff face in the distance. If it was taking her there—which she had a feeling it was—she was screwed. There was no way she'd be able to find her way back without someone there to guide her. Taylor had to get free, and unfortunately, an unplanned water adventure would have to be the way to go.

Taylor's skin lit to fire, turning first red and then fading into bluish-violet, darkening until it was nearly black, and the creature shrieked at her, apparently realizing what she was trying to do. How hot she could go, she wasn't sure, but in the back of her mind, she hoped her fireproof undergarments held out if she actually managed to burn this creature. The grip on her shoulder loosened slightly and she brought her other arm up, her fist glowing black fire and energy as she slammed it into the creature's leg. Almost there, but it was tenacious, and her gap was closing, despite the blur of movement from the corner of her eye.

With adrenaline telling her body to go now, now, _now_ she shot a blast of pure energy straight into the creature's belly and with a horrific, deafening squall, the sharp talons released her shoulder, and Taylor was plummeting to the waves below. Now she saw that it was Thor that she'd noticed in her peripheral, but he had slammed into the creature and he'd be too slow to catch her at her velocity. Hell, at the height she fell from, it would be like hitting concrete if she didn't do something fast. She wrapped herself in a cocoon of black fire and brought her uninjured arm over her head, but still, she passed out when she hit the water.

* * *

Loki and Thor had just returned from Helheim. The king had been outraged at the mere suggestion that he'd lend any of his people to any of Keziah's disciples—least of all, the magician's former apprentice—but he'd agreed to have it looked into on his own terms. If they were using his realm as a base of operations, his loyal guard would uncover it and they would deal with the matter. The Asgardians were explicitly unwelcome to interfere in the matter. It was for Helheim to address and Helheim alone, so Thor and Loki had returned with almost as little information to Keziah's apprentice's whereabouts as when they'd left.

They'd just been leaving the Bifrost, a crowded and yet peaceable silence between them when they'd seen it. At first it had been nothing more than a black dot in the sky, an equally black streak trailing after it. Then it had gotten closer at an alarming speed, and they'd made out a giant, hellish creature. Worse, they'd been able to discern the shape wriggling in its grasp—Taylor, and she was on fire. That wouldn't have been so strange except the fire was _black_ which only Thor knew meant she was desperate.

"Taylor!" he cried, flying into the air to aid her, making a beeline for the creature with his hammer at the ready.

Loki could only stand back and watch. He saw the mighty oaf was just a fraction of a second too slow, and while the god of thunder plowed straight into the beast, Taylor had already freed herself and was careening downwards. He knew right away that when she impacted, she'd be in trouble, shield of fire or no. The impact of the fall would disorient her (and that was at the very _least_ ), her shoulder was injured and bleeding, and that wasn't taking into account her other wounds.

Without a second thought, Loki dove into the water after her, thanking whatever gods would listen that she'd landed near the bridge. It occurred to him that perhaps that had been her plan all along, that someone, Heimdall even, would help her if she needed it. He cut through the water at record speed, using his magic to remove the heaviest of his clothing when they became heavy.

Taylor hadn't resurfaced, and he realized then that she'd been knocked out. Loki dropped beneath the waves with a deep breath, ignoring the sting of the water in his eyes, and located her form sinking just a few feet below him. He kicked down towards her, catching her around the middle and fought his way back to the surface. It was a relief that either the water or her unconscious state had extinguished the flames engulfing her body when she'd fallen. The water are her was unnaturally warm and her skin was more feverish to the touch than usual, but not unbearable.

"Loki!" Thor called from above him, hovering just over their heads.

He readjusted his grip on the unconscious female, making sure that she was secure before he held a hand out. The golden-haired prince hauled them both out of the water and back onto the rainbow bridge, where the rest of Loki's clothes had reappeared. When the trickster god set her down on the hard, translucent surface, he immediately recognized that she wasn't breathing. Ignoring that most of her clothing had burned off in her struggle, he began compressing her chest, trying to force the water from her lungs.

"Get help!" he snapped at Thor and the man jolted to do as the other had ordered.

As Thor flew away, Loki leaned down, pinched Taylor's nose and pressed his lips to hers, forcing air into her lungs before pressing on her sternum again. His heart was beating a mile a minute in his ears. In his mind, his only thoughts were to get her to breathe again. She couldn't just…die. Not like this. She deserved a more heroic death, a suitable one.

Beneath his frantic hands, she was limp, lifeless. Her lips had turned pale, almost blue, and her eyes, her compelling blue eyes, were firmly shut. What really scared him—actually _scared_ him—was that her usually burning skin, so warm and lively to the touch, was cool. It made his breath catch in his throat with panic

Selfishly, he thought that he wanted her around longer. He wanted to solve her mystery; he wanted her smiles and her forgiveness. Despite their bickering, Taylor treated him as an equal, nothing more and nothing less. Strange as it was, Loki wanted her to survive.

A moment later the gods seemed to hear his plea and her torso twisted beneath him while she sputtered up the Asgardian Sea. Her body shuddered beneath him as she coughed and swallowed gulps of air, eyes squeezed shut against the convulsions until she'd finally emptied her lungs. With a final deep breath, Taylor collapsed on her back beneath him, blinking for a moment before she focused on his relieved expression.

"Loki?" she rasped.

"Honestly, you really should take better care of yourself," he informed her, shoulders slumping _._

Even in her current state, she managed to give him a semi-sarcastic look before turning serious again.

"That thing…" she began, attempting to sit up.

She bit off a yelp of pain with a hiss, hand going to her bleeding shoulder as he gently guided her back to her previous position.

"It's gone," he assured her.

She laid back in the chilly puddle of seawater collecting around them, realizing that everything _hurt_ and everything was _cold_. That salt water stung her open wounds, and if she wasn't mistaken, she'd ripped the stitches in her side as well. One day. She just wanted one day without injury. How was she supposed to help save the world from a hospital bed if she didn't heal up soon?

"You know, I didn't have to nearly drown for us to end up in this position," she joked, gesturing between them.

He glanced down at their bodies, and realized that in his haste to save her, he'd positioned his knee between her thighs and was still effectively bracing himself above her. With a weary chuckle and a sigh, he rolled to the side, settling on his back beside her. His own adrenaline high was wearing off, leaving fatigue in its wake. Swimming out there fully clothed, the exertion of keeping both their bodies afloat, and then trying to get Taylor to breathe again on top of interdimensional travel left him exhausted.

"Thank you," she murmured, and he felt her hand, still uncharacteristically cool but beginning to warm again, touch the top of his, "you saved my life."

"I'm sure Thor could have—" he began, but she cut him off.

"But Thor didn't. _You_ did, so thank you."

She was shivering now, and could feel the tremor along his arm. In response to her gratitude, since he suddenly found he couldn't speak, Loki laced their fingers together and squeezed her palm lightly. For a brief moment, she'd scared him, and the thought that she might actually have died was plaguing his mind like wildfire.

"Hey," she said, catching his attention, "I'm glad you came back safe."


	10. Chapter 10

The sun was beginning to set, setting the Asgardian sky to fire and Loki found that it reminded him of Taylor. It was just as vastly beautiful and vibrant as she was. He stared at it from her balcony while the others fussed around her. The healers had patched her together again, sealing and removing smaller cuts and bruises, leaving her with nothing more than stitches over her side and shoulder. By morning, they'd promised, she would be healed entirely, but she needed to stay still and rest until then.

"Guys, I'm fine, really. Go get something to eat, already," he heard her trying to convince them, "I've had worse."

"Alright, but Loki is staying here with you in case you need anything," Steve said, shooting the god a meaningful look.

Normally, the Loki would argue, but he wanted a few moments with Taylor alone. After she'd told him that she was glad he'd returned safely, she'd drifted off to sleep and then the Avengers had swooped down upon them and rushed her to the infirmary. They hadn't had a moment to speak one-on-one since then. He valued his time with her, as he was very aware that it was limited. To keep appearances, he twisted his features to aggravation as he turned from the stunning view.

"Yes," Loki agreed dryly, "I'll wait on you hand and foot. You'll want for nothing."

She shot him the biggest, goofiest smile he'd possibly ever seen—Thor's included—and giggled.

"Sounds like a good deal to me," she added a shrug on the end but grimaced when it pulled at her stitches.

Almost all of the others groaned. At this rate, she'd never heal.

"Just take it easy, doll," Bucky sighed, running a hand through his long hair, "can't have you out of commission for the big show down."

Taylor smiled and patted his hand.

"Just you wait. I'll have won the whole thing before you can even blink," she assured.

"That's our girl," Clint chuckled and mussed her hair affectionately, "you get some rest, Tay. We'll bring you some dinner when we're done, okay?"

She nodded, and watched them begin filing out with a content look on her face. Tony lingered, waiting until Loki had reentered the emptying room. There was something he had to say to Loki, and he wanted to get it over with.

"Reindeer Games," he called from the doorway, and waited until Loki was narrowing his eyes at him, "I'd like word."

Taylor perked up curiously at that, and even Loki had to admit his interest was piqued. Tony barely ever said two words to him that weren't insulting. With this in mind, he cautiously approached him.

"Just one second, Tay," Tony said lightly, probably trying for reassuring, but it just freaked her out.

"Play nice you two," she called as the door closed behind them.

Loki settled his arms behind his back and looked down at the shorter man expectantly. Whatever the hero couldn't say in front of his beloved Taylor was certainly worth hearing. Amusingly enough, he crossed his arms, but his expression was uncharacteristically serious as they considered each other. Would this perhaps be a cliché warning to stay away from her?

"Look, no matter what Taylor says, she's becoming invested in you, which is problematic. I'm sure you know why."

"My freedom has a time-limit," Loki supplied calmly.

"And you're also a homicidal megalomaniac."

Loki sighed, wishing he'd get to the point quickly and without irritating him. Considering he was going to be taking care of Taylor, _alone_ , for the next hour or more, Tony was not making a good case that Loki treat her well. He didn't _plan_ to treat her badly of course, her friend's rudeness aside, but still. Stark couldn't know that.

"Is there a point to this?" he asked blandly.

Tony made a vague gesture with one arm.

"Thanks, I guess," he grumbled.

Pardon?

"Pardon?"

"I said 'thanks', alright? Turn your hearing aid up, old man," Tony pinched the bridge of his nose before continuing, "You didn't have to help her, but you did. I don't know _why_ you did, and honestly I'm suspicious of your motives, but either way, she's alive because of you."

Loki blinked at him, stunned for a moment, before smirking as convincingly as he could.

"Was that so difficult for you to say?" he mocked.

"Just…take it or leave it," Tony said, and then without another word, walked away.

Shaking his head slightly with amusement, he entered Taylor's room again, and she gasped worriedly when she saw it was only him.

"Is he still breathing?!" she questioned in horror.

"He's fine," Loki assured her with a snort, "we were just talking."

"Oh?" she looked curious, but withheld her inquiries, respecting their privacy.

Loki appreciated it. He wasn't sure how to explain the entire bizarre conversation to her, so he settled for silence and sat at the edge of her bed, by her legs. He'd think about Stark's gratitude later. For now, it would be best to devote his attention to Taylor. Gods knew he could barely keep up with her when he was actually focused on her—distraction would be even worse.

"You're too far away," she complained, gesturing him closer.

With a false sigh, more pretense than anything, Loki resituated himself next to her hip, closer, but not uncomfortably close. He was still wary of contact with other people. The corners of her lips quirked up with satisfaction before she turned pensive, readjusting her position.

"What was that thing that grabbed me today?"

"A fire demon, I would suppose. I am not as familiar with creatures of Helheim as I am with those in other realms," he explained.

She tipped her head at him in what he had realized was a sign of her curiosity.

"Why not?"

"Our realms are sworn enemies. They're meant to set Asgard to fire at the end of the world. It's no surprise that they've kept information about their realm a secret."

The alarmed expression on her face was almost comical when he mentioned the "end of the world" part. He supposed it would scare her, coming from a world where the apparent apocalypse was predicted almost regularly and always failed to come. A definite world's end, especially with everything going on, probably scared her.

"Okay, end of the world aside," she said, shaking her head slightly, "there's something that's been bothering me…"

He waited patiently, allowing her to organize her thoughts before speaking.

"It felt like they were…targeting me. I mean, Bruce, Bucky, and I were sitting together, but they seemed hell-bent on me. You don't think…you don't think that Keziah's apprentice is coming after me for some reason?"

Loki frowned, and a tight feeling settling in his stomach at the possibility. For the life of him though, he couldn't fathom why the magician would target Taylor. If anything, it was counter-intuitive, considering Keziah's apprentice seemed to be going out of their way to avoid being caught. Bringing someone like Taylor anywhere near their project was a bad idea, magic or no.

"I doubt it," he replied slowly, "perhaps it was just an attempt to get rid of a couple of you."

She huffed and touched her shoulder lightly, where she was bandaged and sown back together.

"It almost succeeded with one of us."

She frowned, and Loki noted her shoulders slump slightly. Self-conscious, he thought. She was disappointed in herself. Hesitant, he considered taking her hand, as she had done to him in the library and then on the bridge, but he withheld. Logically, he knew that if she had made instigated such an innocuous form of contact previously, it would be acceptable for him to do the same, but the voice in the back of his mind told him not to, and he listened.

"You're alive aren't you?" he said instead, considering her was better with his words, "I would say the attempt was a complete failure."

She half-smiled at him.

"That's one way of putting it," she agreed with a yawn.

He considered her for a moment, the relaxed, comfortable set of her shoulders, the lazy drawl to her words. She looked…tired, but oh so very inviting. It was far too easy to imagine settling in next to her for a few hours and sleeping beside her. The thought alone made him uncomfortable and he scrambled for something to say to distract his traitorous mind.

"That fire you manifested today, it was black. How did you do that?"

She roused from her own thoughts and tapped her cheek for a moment as she considered the question.

"Well, you know how, the dark the color of a fire, the hotter it is? That's pretty much what happened. I made the fire so hot it turned black."

Grasping on to this bit of information, his mind began calculating. Loki had been wondering since the beginning how hot she could manifest her powers. Black fire? He'd never heard of it before. What temperature would that translate to? Could she make it any hotter?

"Were you putting all your effort into it?" he wondered.

"Nah, not really," she replied so casually they could have been discussing fair weather, "Maybe, like, fifty percent effort, at most. I haven't gone all out since I was still a preteen. It's kind of dangerous, and I've only grown stronger over the years."

That was interesting information to have. Having her as an ally against Keziah's apprentice was definitely an advantage. Magic was magic, but there was only so much that could be done against someone with raw powers like Taylor's. More interestingly, she had a very clear understanding of the damage she could do. Her cautiousness towards it was something he'd noticed, although only someone like Loki would have been able to detect it.

"What happened when you were a preteen?" he asked.

For the first time since speaking to her, she shut down almost entirely, avoiding his gaze and pressing her teeth into her bottom lip. It was like Taylor disappeared altogether with a simple, harmless question. She clenched the sheets in her hands, eyes darkening in consistency to her thoughts. Whatever she was thinking of, it didn't take a genius to realize it was painful.

"A lot," she answered at last, and the words were forced, barely audible, "A lot of things happened. I don't…I don't talk about it. I don't want to."

Any time Loki kept to himself like this, she accepted it without prying. It was the least he could do to extend the same courtesy, although he was ravenously curious as to what would make her react so grimly. Taylor wasn't exactly a flowers and sunshine type of girl, but her mood rarely seemed to plummet like this. He was beginning to develop a theory about this mystery he'd set out to uncover, and he didn't like it one bit.

"What happened there?" he asked suddenly, motioning to an older looking scar on her forehead.

She touched it, fingers feather-light over the mark and she visibly swallowed before speaking.

"Fell and hit my head when I was younger," she lied, forcing out the most unconvincing laugh Loki had ever heard, "I've always been pretty clumsy."

They both knew that he knew she was lying, but he didn't call her on it as a sick feeling crawled down his throat. Perhaps…he'd made a poor decision wishing to uncover this secret of hers, but now that he'd committed himself, his mind wasn't likely to let it go, no matter how much he wanted to.


	11. Chapter 11

A bolt of anticipation thrummed through Taylor's body as she stood inside the golden, clockwork interior of the Bifrost. It was tempered, however, with unease. Heimdall had reported, not fifteen minutes ago, that the king of Helheim and disappeared momentarily, only to reappear and begin acting strangely. It was a clear indication that Keziah's apprentice was lurking about in the fire realm, and that they had an influence over the realm's inhabitants.

Dressed in their mission clothes, all of the Avengers (plus Loki) had immediately assembled and prepared to be zapped over to Helheim. They had a good plan and everyone was prepared for a fight, all healed and energized. The only problem was that Taylor had this strange feeling that something wasn't right. All these years without raising alarms, and suddenly Keziah's apprentice was dropping just enough of a hint to lead the Avengers to them?

Taylor had expressed her apprehensions when they'd been forming the plan, a couple of the others had even echoed the sentiment, Steve included. However, as he and Tony had pointed out, sitting around waiting for the apprentice to make the first move wasn't getting them anywhere. It was best to be "proactive" they said, but they'd be cautious about it. Technically it'd be a recon-mission, but everyone was prepared for a real fight. Half the team would take a look at what was happening in the place Helheim's king had disappeared to while the other half would stand by until they got word from the others to move in or fall back.

Loki and Taylor were both on the recon-team. Taylor, because she would be best equipped to deal with the environment in Helheim, and Loki, because he could spot magic from a mile away. He'd be able to detect any barriers shielding the apprentice. At least, that was the hope.

"Never a dull moment," she chirped brightly as the great machine hummed to life around them.

"Leave it to Taylor to find interdimensional space travel to a planet made of fire in order to stop an evil necromancer fun," Clint scoffed.

She widened her eyes at him, eyebrows raised in comical disbelief.

"Do you even hear yourself? When you put it that way—duh! God, we should have our own comic books or movies or something."

A couple of the others chuckled, imagining it for themselves. Really though, who would be interested in _their_ lives? Most of the time it was lounging on the couch or going on standard missions or training. What was so cool about that? Taylor gasped as her thought process went further.

"A TV show!" she squealed, giggling, "Even an animated one. We could do crossovers into other animated TV shows and we'd have action figures and stuff."

Tony snorted, the helmet to his Iron Man suit off for the moment while they were talking.

"What would they even call something like that?" he wondered.

She thought for a moment but eventually shrugged.

"Maybe something like 'Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heroes'?"

Loki rolled his eyes at her at the same time Clint snorted.

"Imaginative."

She stuck her tongue out at him, placing her hands on her hips defiantly.

"Hey, don't judge if you can't come up with better," she replied.

Thor cleared his throat, calling their attention from their debate. They could discuss the finer points of television later.

"It is time to leave," he informed them, "we must focus."

Steve nodded, adding on, "Thor's right. We gotta keep our heads in the game if we want to beat the apprentice—and no, Taylor, that's not your cue to sing _anything_ from High School Musical. Everyone knows their job?"

At the scattered nods, he turned to Thor, a determined furrow between his brows.

"On your word, Thor."

Taylor was moving towards Loki before Thor even told them to hold on. Travelling through the Bifrost was fun, but falling into the dark abyss? Not so much. She gripped onto his hand tightly, like the first time, and found herself somewhat comforted by the familiar coolness of his touch. Cold temperature was a sensation she was used to—since there was very little that ever outwardly made her warm—but Loki's temperature was noticeably cooler than most people's. At least to her, anyway.

Once more, that somewhat scary, but completely exhilarating sensation of hurtling through space ripped through her stomach, and she squinted against the bright lights surrounding her. Loki's hold on her was firm, comforting as her heart slammed against her ribcage with excitement. Crazy sorcerer and fire demons aside, she was having a blast.

They landed on rough, uneven ground, the color of charcoal and pitted with craters in various sizes ranging from a quarter to roughly Lake Superior. In some places, black clusters of jagged obsidian spires spewed thick smoke into the air. To Taylor's left, a lake of bubbling lava lapped at a glittering shoreline, the sand of which was no doubt another type of volcanic rock and likely scattered with jagged chunks of glass. Beyond the lake, a tall, smoldering palace could just be made out through the haziness.

Taylor gazed around her in awe as a strange feeling crawled over her body and a shiver raced down her spine. Something in her chest shifted off-center and her breath caught in her lungs. Loki glanced at her, noting that her dark hair fit in well with their surroundings, but not her blue eyes.

"Are you alright?" he asked with some concern.

"It's just so…warm here. I can actually feel it."

Sure, she'd felt exterior warmth before, but not often, and not to this degree. It felt…good. Taylor had never noticed the chill that seemed to lay deep in her bones despite the nature of her powers. It wasn't always fire that they manifested as, but it seemed that no matter what, she was simply warmer than everyone and everything around her, even if just by a degree or two.

"Why is it so dark?" Steve inquired, glancing up.

"The thick smoke blocks most of the sky," Thor answered.

Taylor wouldn't have been surprised if even the sky was stained black. She noticed Natasha held a hand out to the soft, grayish flakes that were floating in the air. It stuck to Natasha's palm and she brought it closer to her face, rubbing her fingers together. The particles crumbled and smeared across her skin.

"It's ash," she stated plainly.

"It's like snow or rain," Bruce observed, "I wonder if it is a weather condition or perpetual."

Overhead, a familiar, terrible screeching reached the group and they all prepared for battle, but the beasts completely ignored them, if they'd seen the Avengers at all. Taylor straightened from her crouched position and turned as Steve called for their attention.

"Alright, recon team should head out. Stand-by team will be ready if you call."

Taylor and Loki started out with the others at the front of the group. Loki recognized the tricks of the harsh realm and maneuvered accordingly while Taylor sort of wandered along and simply _found_ all the pitfalls and traps. Eruptions of fire, volcanic heat vents, the ground wasn't as sturdy beneath their feet as they'd believed; air bubbles in the ground were liable to fall in, creating more of the craters. Taylor took every fumble in stride, half the time she barely even noticed that she'd have been injured if she were like the others.

They'd only walked a couple miles when Loki took Taylor's arm, making her pause. Their small team stopped as well, tensing in preparation of a possible attack. He slowly reached a hand out into the space in front of him and the air rippled beneath his touch. Recognizing that it was a portal, she poked at it curiously, watching the disruption spread across its surface like ripples over water.

"Neat."

"This may very well lead to another dimension," Loki said, "a dimension between dimensions, like where the Aether was hidden."

Taylor frowned, considering the seemingly empty space in front of her and thinking about their next move.

"We could be walking into a trap, if we leave this dimension," she pointed out, glancing at Natasha, who was in their group, "Call the others or check it out?"

Natasha frowned and crossed her arms, staring dubiously at the invisible rift.

"I say we send a couple in to see what's going on. They don't come out in five minutes, we call for backup," she stated.

Taylor nodded in agreement, glancing at Loki and then Steve, the fourth member of their recon group. They agreed as well and decided Taylor and Loki would be the best candidates to investigate. Together, they stepped through the portal, squinting at the dark, fire-lit chamber that greeted them. Moss grew in corners and crept across the damp gray stone. The room was completely empty, but a doorway faced them, leading into a hallway and choice of going left or right. She glanced at Loki and caught his eye.

"Should we get the others?" she whispered.

"Not yet. Not until we're sure this is the place we're looking for."

So the recon team had split into a smaller recon team. Great. Loki began easing into the hallway before she could protest, and despite her misgivings, she followed him, lighting the way for them rather than grabbing a torch from the wall. In some places it was pitch black, and in others, it was like daylight. Loki told her, quietly, that he could hear something, hence his certainty in the direction they were going. Taylor couldn't detect anything, so she blindly—or in this case deafly—followed him.

"Stop," he whispered after several twists and turns that Taylor was desperately trying to remember.

Obeying, she gave him a curious look and opened her mouth to ask, but he placed his index finger over his mouth and then gestured for her to listen. It was faint, but she recognized the low hum of voices, though she couldn't quite pinpoint which direction they were coming from. A sudden scream echoed along the hallway and she jumped, startled.

Loki gave her an amused look before he began in the direction of the distressed person and she reluctantly trailed after him. A great light up ahead negated the use of the fire in her palm, and she extinguished the flame as Loki peered around the corner. Two fire giants guarded the entrance to a large chamber where the light was coming from, a few desperate cries drifted into the hallway where the hidden duo stood.

Using his magic, Loki knocked the two out, and they stood, plastered to the wall, while he and Taylor slid along the wall to spy into the room. She darted to the other side so quickly, Loki didn't even register the movement until he noticed her shifting slightly in the shadows. Beyond the doorway, a group of people stood lined up in chains, the fire giants, armed and deadly, glaring at them to keep them docile. One of the prisoners laid on a stone slab, chained to the surface as a hooded figure chanted in a foreign tongue over them.

A dark mist engulfed the prisoner's body and he began screaming as the mist trickled into his mouth, nose, ears. Taylor tensed, muscles coiled to spring. She wanted to intervene so very badly, but she knew she couldn't, not this time. If she did, the entire mission could be ruined, and they couldn't chance losing the apprentice, not now. Loki was peering into the room, mentally translating the words in the spell, trying to understand its use in this instance.

On the table, the mist was ebbing away, dissipating, and the prisoner was dead, merely an empty husk of a living being now. Taylor's fist clenched by her thigh, a flicker of light flashing over her knuckles before slithering back into her palm. Her teeth clenched as she glanced at Loki, waiting for his cue that they leave. Their five-minute margin was closing, he needed to decide if this was the apprentice or not.

"Well, are you going to reveal yourselves, or not?"

The voice was the same as that of person beneath the hood, female, husky and smug. The hood fell back to reveal a long plait of corn-silk blond hair, and Taylor ducked back behind the doorway before the woman could turn and see her. Loki met her eyes across the distance, a silent question of what to do next hanging between them.

"Very well then," the blonde woman said after a moment.

A word that Taylor did not understand and then the fire giants were free from the wall and grabbing hold of her. Their hands were not as sharp as the rest of them, but rough, and hot, and Taylor frowned disapprovingly as they unceremoniously dragged her into the chamber. She was not quite putting up a fight, but just enough resistance that she could give a toddler throwing a temper tantrum a run for their money. Loki was being more comparatively more cooperative, sauntering along as if they'd not just gotten themselves in a rather unfortunate situation.

The blonde woman was perfection personified, Taylor thought, and it was kind of unfair. Witches and sorcerers were supposed to be hunched over and old and semi-toothless. That woman with her chocolate brown eyes and beautiful golden hair and youthful, practically glowing skin could pass for a supermodel any day. Then again, Taylor corrected herself, glancing at Loki, attractiveness was turning out to be a common trait among those magicians.

"My, my," she purred, looking between the two, "what do we have here?"

"Hi, we're with the Census," Taylor began with a completely serious expression.

Loki rolled her eyes, but caught her angle nonetheless. Stalling for time it would be.

"You're Sigyn," Loki cut her off, "You're Keziah's apprentice?"

"That I am. And you are Loki _Odinson_ of Asgard," she turned and tilted her head at Taylor, "and you are Taylor Cadence, of Midgard."

Taylor did not like the look blondie was giving either of them, but her especially. That feeling of doom stirred again and she glanced at Loki, wondering if he felt it too. Unfortunately, he wasn't looking in her direction at that moment—he was glancing around, apparently trying to find something.

"The one and only," Taylor bluffed, turning back to Sigyn and mustering up a winning smile, "well, I imagine there are other people named Taylor Cadence, but I'm pretty sure I'm the only one with super powers. Wouldn't that be confusing though, if there were two Taylor Cadences with super powers. You probably don't have that problem. I mean, I doubt Sigyn is a very common name. Then again, I'm no cultural expert, so it could be pretty popular. Like Stephanie, or Brandon, or John. I went to high school with four Megans. That was confusing…"

Sigyn's eyes narrowed, just slightly, at Taylor and her rambling. They were coming up on the end of their five minutes. Pretty soon, the Avengers would be storming the place and the fight would be a little more even.

"Charming," she commented, and Taylor somehow doubted she meant it, "I think you can be our first volunteer."

The fire giant holding Taylor began manhandling her onto the table, but she was putting up a hell of a fight, and it was having a terrific time trying to get a good grip on her once her skin had lit to fire and she was squirming. It was just finally beginning to secure her when the rest of the heroes exploded into the chamber—literally. Rubble and a cloud of dust erupted from the doorway, blasting those closest to the floor. Taylor, noting Sigyn getting to her feet, bolted and tackled her again.

They were grappling on the floor, Sigyn was better than Taylor had anticipated, but Taylor was better trained, leaving them easily matched. It helped that Sigyn could barely get the start of a spell out before Taylor was aiming a punch for her face. Fighting and talking weren't possible, Taylor had learned that through experience.

"I will do what your stepmother never had the strength to do," Sigyn snarled, gripping onto Taylor's throat and forcing her onto her back.

Taylor didn't notice that Sigyn's hands were glowing subtly, but her response to the comment was absolutely feral—profane enough to make a sailor blush bright red—and her skin began to burn at a painful temperature. Sigyn was forced to release her or else be injured further. A couple fire giants pounced at that moment, and Taylor was caught up in the rush of battle. A punch, a kick, a powerful bolt of energy, a deep slice in her thigh that was making it difficult to move, and then it was suddenly all over, and she and her friends were left alone in an empty chamber.

Silence settled thick over their group as they stared at each other, exhausted. There was no clear winner, but every one of them felt as though they'd been beaten. Taylor couldn't remember a time she'd ever fought so hard, between the Sigyn and the fire giants, plus dodging the Hulk in the process, she'd had to expend more energy than she ever had before, and she _hurt_.

"Is everyone alright?" Thor asked raggedly.

"Bucky. Where's Bucky?" Steve said suddenly, looking around.

"He's here!" Natasha called, "Still alive, but badly injured. We need to get him back to Asgard."

Thor stalked over to the two, not too badly injured to carry an unconscious Bucky over his shoulder. The other painfully collected themselves, prepared to get moving.

"Loki, can Heimdall reach us here?"

"No, we'll have to return to Helheim first."

Taylor glanced at Loki, smudged and marked from an apparent battle between himself and Sigyn. Sensing her gaze on him, he turned, noticed her favoring her leg, and approached to aid her in walking while the others began filing through the blown doorway. She accepted his help thankfully, gritting her teeth as each movement ripped through damaged muscle.

"We were way under-prepared for this," she murmured to him with a grimace.

"Yes. The fact that we made it out alive is a miracle at all," Loki replied with a frown, "I can't help but feel as if there is a particular reason for it."

She agreed with him, but she didn't have the heart to say aloud just yet. Fatigue and pain were setting in fast, but they had nearly reached the gate. Ahead of them, their friends were already disappearing through the wall. Together, they stumbled through the portal, and were met with the army of Helheim. Taylor groaned loudly, voicing each of their thoughts.

"Can't were ever catch a break?" she demanded.

"Never a dull moment," Loki replied.


	12. Chapter 12

Taylor's blood was soaking liquid fire into his pants, and it was making Loki's stomach roil violently. While he should have been focused on the army surrounding them, his attention was instead on the fine tremble that had begun throughout her body from fatigue. Loki himself was struggling with his fading strength, but he was determined to support Taylor as best he could. The tense conversation passing between Thor, Steve, and the general of Helheim's army became background noise with her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt and her lithe body pressed into his side.

"You, there. Woman."

Only two women on the team, and the general was not looking at Natasha. Taylor came to attention like a well-trained soldier, and levelled the fire giant with a steady gaze that she was desperately trying to keep from glazing over from exhaustion. Loki wondered how long she would last, especially since her wound had yet to stop bleeding. He shifted slightly, pressing his leg into hers to staunch some of the blood flow.

"It's Taylor," she corrected without a hint of the tiredness she must have felt, "Taylor Cadence…of Midgard."

"You're mistaken," the general replied flatly, "if only partially. You are of Helheim."

She jerked back so violently, Loki nearly lost his grip on her. All eyes locked onto her immediately, each expression one of confusion, including his. Taylor herself looked wildly perplexed by the bold assertion. Loki's mind initially scoffed at such a notion, but another part treacherously reminded him of what he was, how it had been a secret even to him for so very long. Perhaps Taylor was not so dissimilar to him.

"Excuse me?" she sputtered, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I recognize one of our own—even a half-breed," the last part was said with just enough distaste to make her raise an eyebrow, "likely one of your parents was exiled to Midgard."

So it seemed exile to Earth was a popular punishment in any realm, but the important question was if it had brought about Taylor's conception. Loki had reflected when they'd first arrived in Helheim that she would belong—but that train of thought had only been instigated because of the nature of her powers. While she seemed perfectly comfortable in Helheim, it had never occurred to him that it may be because she was half fire giant.

"That is not possible," Thor interrupted, "both of Taylor's parents are of Midgard."

"That is incorrect. How else could she withstand this terrain so easily? How else could she control fire and light?"

Loki glanced at Taylor, and noted the uncertainty beginning to crowd her features. Noticing his gaze on her, she met his eyes, and in the cool depths he could see conflict raging within her. She captured her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment before she spoke up.

"I was adopted when I was a baby…it's possible that one of my biological parents was from Helheim."

The revelation seemed to surprise only Loki. For everyone else, it was as though they were just remembering. Morons.

"That's right," Tony said with a frown, "you were one of those children mysteriously left on the doorstep, according to your file."

She shrugged slightly, eyes slanting away from theirs as she considered.

"Guess that answers that question I never really wanted answered."

Loki shot her a skeptical sideways look, but before any more could be said, the general spoke up again.

"Asgardians are not welcome in Helheim without an escort, and you were warned of this the last time you came here, Son of Odin. It is my duty as general of Helheim's army to arrest you and your compatriots."

As one unit, they tensed, prepared to spring at any moment despite the battle they'd already fought. Loki knew it would be a useless fight—they all did. They were outnumbered and outgunned. Perhaps they might have been able to manage it were they not already tired and injured from their fight with Sigyn and her cohorts. At the moment though, they stood no chance against an entire army.

"Look, we were only using Helheim as a bridge," Steve tried, "Keziah's apprentice is planning something and we were trying to stop her. Every world could be in trouble if you don't let us leave. Please."

Taylor's hand tightened in the fabric of Loki's shirt as the fire giant shook his head, almost mournfully.

"You are not to be in Helheim without an escort—I am honor-bound to turn you in," he repeated, and then turned his glowing eyes on Taylor again, "however, it appears you may have an escort with you."

Taylor frowned, eyebrows scrunching together quizzically.

"What are you trying to say?" she demanded.

"If you can defeat one of my men in battle, you will be of equal standing to a full bred, and you will serve as an acceptable escort to your friends. Do you understand?"

Taylor's breath rushed out of her all at once and she nodded enthusiastically, even as Loki's stomach dropped with dread. She was in no condition to be fighting. Her leg was bleeding, bruises were already forming a ring around her neck, and she could barely stand upright on her own without Loki's assistance. How could she possibly be expected to fight a well-trained, well-rested soldier? The expressions on the other Avengers faces clearly echoed his thoughts.

"Very well. Prepare yourself," the general said, and turned to speak to his men.

Taylor's friends all flocked around her as she attempted to stand without Loki for support, favoring the leg with the deep cut.

"Taylor, you're in no condition to be doing this," Bruce began.

"I have to," she replied, sucking a breath between her teeth, "I can do this. I'll be fine."

"You're bleeding everywhere," Natasha observed, voice heavy with concern.

Taylor glanced down as if seeing the wound for the first time. Determination painted her features as she shot looks at Tony and Bruce.

"What's the temperature for cauterization?"

"Taylor..."

"I'm losing a lot of blood. Cauterizing it is the best option right now. How hot does it have to be, Bruce?"

He sighed heavily and rubbed at his eyes, but it was resigned and worry laced his voice as he answered.

"About 2200 degrees Fahrenheit, or 1204 degree Celsius. Do you think you can manage it?"

She let out a breath before nodding.

"Okay, let's do this," she said with finality, tone becoming authoritative in a way that was very similar to Steve's, "Loki, I'll need you to help support me. Bruce, you'll have to tell me when to stop—bodies aren't my thing."

She paused and gazed at the others, her eyes resting on Bucky again for a moment before she set her jaw. Loki admired her resolve, but even he wasn't sure about this plan of hers. Nevertheless, he adjusted his stance as she leaned her back against his chest. She raised the hand closest to the open wound, her fingertips beginning to glow red-hot before fading to white. Steve moved closer, holding onto her free hand in solidarity.

"Here," Natasha added, handing her a wad of cloth, "fireproof skin or not, you're gonna want this, Tay."

Taylor allowed her to shove the ball of cloth between her teeth and without waiting further, pressed her fingers into her flesh.

Taylor had been through a lot in her life, and she liked to think of herself as a pretty tough cookie, but never in her life had she had to cauterize a wound before, and damn did it smart. She was grateful for Natasha's foresight, her screaming was muffled by the cloth and by her desire not to be a total weenie. She was also thankful for Loki, because the leg that had been supporting her gave out as soon as she touched her leg. Steve was regretting the offer of his hand at that moment she was sure—Taylor had no idea how hard she was squeezing, but knew it couldn't have been pleasant for him either. It felt like hours, but a few moments later, Bruce was batting her hand away, telling her that she'd done enough.

As the burn faded she straightened up and shook it off. She had a mission to complete, friends to protect, there was no time to be whining about a little blister. She turned to leave but Loki caught her arm and jerked her back, whispering something in a language she didn't understand. A moment later, her body suddenly came alive as energy and adrenaline filled her veins with electricity. She blinked up at him, stunned into silence as the pain dissipated to almost nothing and her mind cleared and sharpened.

"This should be of some aid, but it will not last longer than fifteen minutes, so you would do best not to drag this out, yes?"

She nodded, eternally grateful that she and Loki were on terms well enough that he thought to help her. Reinvigorated, she rolled an imaginary knot out of her shoulder and approached the huge ring of fire giants that had been formed while she'd been performing impromptu first-aid. She met the general's gaze from the other side of the circle.

"Alright, let's get this show on the road," she declared loudly, settling her hands on her hips, "who's my unfortunate victim?"

The general stepped forward and for a terrified moment, she thought he was volunteering himself, but then he nodded to another soldier. It was hard to determine differences between individuals, considering all of them looked basically like lava monsters to her, but she knew that it wouldn't be a walk in the park. For one, he was huge—at least two or three feet taller than her, and easily twice as wide. Besides that, she was exhausted and pained where he was not.

"The match will last as long as you both are able to fight," the general paused and settled her with a look to impress the full weight of his words on her, "if you lose, I will be bound by honor to detain you and your friends."

Taylor nodded her understanding and squared her shoulders. Bucky couldn't hold out in a prison cell somewhere in his condition. She needed to get him back to Asgard, she needed to get them all back to Asgard. She'd been presented with a rare opportunity, a freaking _freebie_ she was not about to waste it.

"Call it whenever," she said, dropping down in her fighting stance, "I'm ready."

* * *

Taylor blinked awake as soon as she became aware of someone else in the room with her. She was in a lot of pain still, but the Asgardian doctors had done a hell of a good job patching her up again after the fight in Helheim. The battle had lasted longer than she'd expected or wanted it to. Even though Loki's spell had worn off about three-quarters of the way through, she'd won, but not without nearly collapsing at its conclusion.

True to his word, the general of Helheim's army had released them and the beam from the Bifrost had jettisoned them back to safety as soon as she was decided the victor. After that, everything came to her in patches of consciousness and sweet oblivion while the doctors had cleaned her up. She'd only been resting a few hours or so when she sensed someone enter her room, almost completely silent. If she weren't so used to listening for Clint and Natasha, she probably wouldn't have detected them at all.

"You should be resting," Loki murmured and Taylor pretended a little thrill didn't go through her to see him.

"So should you," she replied, offering up the least pained smile she could muster and shifting to give him room to sit at the edge of the bed.

He settled carefully next to her, his eyes quickly scanning over her visible bandages. He didn't look too much better off himself, she thought with chagrin. There were just as many wraps and stitches on him as there were on her, which was saying something. She looked like she'd been thrown in blender set on puree.

"What did the doctors say?" he asked.

"Oh, the usual. I made a mess of the cauterization. I'm going to drive them to early graves. I'm lucky to be alive. Nothing new. What about you?"

"The same, more or less."

She giggled, but her fractured ribs protested immediately and vigorously, and she couldn't hide her wince. The concern that etched itself into his features as soon as he registered her grimace was enough to make her grin like an idiot and risk splitting her lip open again.

"Are you in pain?" he inquired.

He raised a hand as if to offer her some sort of comfort, but it remained suspended indecisively in the air, and Taylor wondered why she so badly wanted him to go through with it. She craved his touch for some reason—even something innocuous, like his hand in hers or touching her shoulder. Anything would have done at that moment, but he made no move towards her and she couldn't convince herself to encourage him.

"Yeah, a little," she admitted reluctantly.

Everything hurt acutely, actually, but she wasn't about to say anything about it. She'd been through worse—at least she kept telling herself that.

"Here," he murmured and his hand settled gently over her forehead for a moment.

The pain receded all at once and she breathed a sigh of relief as her muscles, tense from the discomfort, began to release at long last. His hand dropped from her forehead to her cheek and she couldn't bring herself to mind in the least that his skin was cooler than she would usually tolerate. There was something incredibly reassuring about having him so close, a physical support while her friends were separated from her, still getting care or resting in separate rooms.

"Thank you," she murmured, and those two words were packed with far more emotion than she'd intended.

"Taylor, I," he cut off abruptly searching her face for something, "you…I've never seen anything like you."

She managed another laugh, this time without feeling pain explode through her torso, and touched the hand closest to hers, supporting himself on the bed.

"You'd be surprised how often I hear that," she joked.

A smile tugged at his lips, one of those genuine infectious ones that made her insides feel like she'd taken a shot of pure lightening. He leaned closer and her organs spontaneously combusted and she suddenly realized what exactly was going on. Oh no. Oh, this couldn't be happening. She took a deep breath as he leaned closer, touching his forehead lightly to hers. She had a mission to complete, a world to save, but damn if she couldn't remember what it was at the moment.

"When we first met, I thought that your strength was an illusion. I assumed wrongly of you and of your character. For that, I sincerely apologize," he began.

She felt her chest constrict as he straightened just enough that he could look her in the eyes again, and her breath caught when his thumb stroked tenderly over cheek. Even if she'd had something to say, she couldn't have, with the way her throat seemed to close up at his words. She had no idea where he was going with this, and part of her was inexplicably afraid to find out, but another, larger and louder part of her, wanted very badly for him to continue.

"I cannot fathom what is in your past that chains you down and keeps you trapped in the darkness like it does," she felt tears well in her eyes even though she knew he couldn't know—not for certain anyway, "but I know that you are the strongest person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting, Taylor, and I know that you are stronger than it as well."

The tears slipped out without her permission, a quiet sob escaping her before she curled her fingers into the fabric of his shirt and jerked him closer. Their lips met somewhat gracelessly, and she was clumsy with inexperience, but luckily he knew what he was doing once he got over the shock of her initiating contact. The hand that had been on her face moved to her hair as he held himself over her to avoid injuring her further, and her world shrunk down to just the two of them, and the way Loki's mouth felt on hers.

He teased along her bottom lip and she gladly opened her mouth to him, their tongues dancing like they'd been partners all their lives. He tasted cool and spicy and even better than her mind had ever imagined. Something began burning low in her belly that had nothing to do with her powers and her mind went pleasantly blank, like when she woke up late in the morning after a mission that lasted over 24 hours. He easily led the kiss and she submitted to him willingly, a low moan escaping her throat when he nibbled gently at her lip, minding the freshly closed cut. It was a small moment of heaven, of peace, and the world could have come crashing down around them for all she cared. And then someone cleared their throat. Loudly.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"


	13. Chapter 13

_"_ _I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"_

Yes, in fact, he was, but Taylor wasn't about to say that out loud. She had to admit, it was a bit of a compromising situation she was in—making out with Loki in a hospital bed. She'd probably be a bit taken aback too if she'd walked in on one of her teammates with their tongue down someone throat (ahem, Tony) but that didn't mean she much appreciated being disturbed either. Unfortunately, Steve's intrusion also brought her brain crashing back down to earth and as she broke the kiss with Loki, a fierce blush dusted her cheeks. Whoops.

"Um…no," she replied, clearing her throat awkwardly.

"You mind giving us a moment," Steve said, addressing Loki specifically this time.

She felt his grip tighten on her hand, just slightly, and prayed he wouldn't argue. This was not the time to be picking fights with her teammates, especially Steve. One of the most important things she'd learned in her time as an Avenger was that the team had to be unified during crisis. A little spat over romance was not something to risk all the nine realms over. With a sigh that could only be described only be described as frustrated, Loki disentangled his hand from her hair and straightened and fixed his clothes.

"I'll be back to check on you in a little while," he informed her, "I have some research to do in the library."

Taylor nodded, thankful that he wasn't going to put up a fight about it, and adjusted her hair while he brushed past Steve and out of the room. She heard Steve's boots crossing the polished floor and looked back at him without shame or apology, but she was somewhat surprised to see that his expression wasn't hard or angry. He looked embarrassed, which was entirely understandable, and a little shell-shocked sure, but not at all how she expected him to be after catching her and Loki kissing.

"Hey," she said as he finally reached the bedside, "how do you feel?"

She indicated the various bandages and stitches currently holding him together.

"Uh, alright, I guess. Better than you by a long shot," she grinned at his attempt at humor.

"What about Bucky?" she asked worriedly, "Will he be alright?"

If anyone knew Bucky's condition, it would be Steve. The two were inseparable, a perfectly synchronized team on the battlefield, and still the best of friends off of it. Taylor had no doubt that Steve had run straight to Bucky's bedside as soon as his own wounds had been managed.

"Yeah, he's resting now, just got hit in the head pretty hard. Doctors said he should wake up soon."

Relief flooded her mind at the news—enough for her to ignore the lingering awkwardness for a moment.

"How about everyone else?" she insisted, "Are they okay?"

"Everyone's fine, Taylor," he chuckled, "just focus on getting healed up yourself."

He paused for a second before continuing, settling himself where Loki had just been.

"You took one for the team today. If it wasn't for you we'd be in a lot of trouble."

She sighed, a sick feeling settling in her gut as she remembered the reason she'd had to fight the Helheim soldier in the first place.

"Yeah, well, we're not in the clear yet. Not with Sigyn still out there in the universe somewhere," she pointed out with no small amount of apprehension.

Not only that, but she'd found out she was half fire-giant too. It was almost laughable, considering she could barely reach the top of the refrigerator, but there was no denying it. At least she had an explanation for the origin of her powers after all those years, but it wasn't like it had been a burning question in her mind either. That was one truth she would have rather left in the dark. Steve, noticing her plummeting mood nudged her companionably, shooting her a brotherly smile.

"Hey, one victory at a time. Let's just take this time to rest and adjust our strategy. We're all alive and now we're a little smarter than before. We'll get her next time," he promised.

She smiled genuinely at him. In all this strangeness—between apparently having some sort of feelings beyond the platonic for Loki, and getting into a fistfight with a ridiculously powerful sorceress—it was nice to have this little bit of familiarity. Steve had long been one of her best friends since he'd showed up at her place all those years ago. He'd always been a model of both inner and outer strength for her—her team leader and her surrogate brother.

"Yeah, we will," she agreed.

"So, um," he cleared his throat loudly, eyes shifting around uncomfortably, "you and Loki…has this been going on for a while or…?"

She rolled her eyes, lips curling up despite herself. No, he wasn't angry, which was more than she could have hoped for out of any of the Avengers. She couldn't imagine what she would have done if he'd taken it as badly as she'd originally expected.

"It's a new thing, actually. Like, really new," she answered, "Like, just-happened-and-then-you-walked-in new."

His eyebrows shot up nearly to his hairline and he grimaced, but it was obvious he was attempting not to grin at her. Yep, just like a brother that one. _Oh no, I walked in on you? What a_ shame!

"Sorry about that."

She snorted and pushed lightly at his shoulder.

"No you're not," she accused good-naturedly.

"No, not really," he admitted with a laugh, "you plan on telling the team?"

Taylor tipped her head back against the pillow as she considered the question. She didn't know what she'd tell them if she did. She was only just coming to terms with the fact that she _might_ have romantic notions towards Loki. Okay, understatement of the century, she internally scoffed. Well, she wasn't going to keep anything from them, but she couldn't really inform the others of anything until she knew for certain what the situation was between her and Loki. A single kiss—even a mind-blowing one—didn't make a relationship.

"As soon as I figure out what to tell them, yeah," she replied finally, "I still don't even know what's going on and we're kinda busy trying to save the world right now."

She groaned and rubbed at one eye with the heel of her hand. Oh, the complications just kept piling up.

"Oh gosh, I have the worst timing," she sighed.

Steve took her hand, and she didn't miss the particularly feminine, finger-shaped bruises peppering his.

"Don't worry about it, Tay. Take it from the world's leading expert on waiting too long: don't. Just remember rule number two."

She rolled her eyes and grinned widely. Rule number two: no romantic interludes during the mission. Taylor would have thought that rule would go without saying, kind of like "Thou shalt not murder" but apparently somewhere along the time she'd been training with Natasha, Clint, and the others, they had become actual, concrete, _numbered_ rules. She'd sort of broken rule number three already, which was "don't magically fall for bad guys" but then Loki wasn't _technically_ a bad guy anymore, even though he liked to pretend he was.

"I'll keep that in mind, _mom_ ," she teased.

He sighed and gave her the look that reminded her she could be a little shit and smoothed her hair down.

"Alright, get some rest, kiddo, you need it."

She smiled at him and nodded, settling back into the mattress with a yawn. No longer in pain thanks to Loki, she could finally get some much needed rest.

"See you later, Steve. Come get me if anything happens."

"Sure thing."

* * *

Loki was gathering all the information he could about Sigyn and he was seriously considering digging into the forbidden material in the Vault that would explain just how she was doing to reanimate Keziah. No matter what, he now had a feeling Taylor held some significance. It was no coincidence that she targeted Taylor first when they'd been captured in the dungeons, or that the two had fought one-on-one for so long either. Out of them all, he'd have to prepare himself and Taylor the most.

Try to focus on the centuries old text and not the taste of Taylor still on his lips, he bent over the pages, skimming the words to absorb as much as he could in so short a time. It would take more than what was accessible in the library, he concluded quickly. Wrestling permission from Odin to look at the really useful books would be a battle all on its own, but they were already at a steep disadvantage. For all their powers, the Avengers could only do so much against magic—and they only had one sorcerer whereas their adversaries had two.

"Loki."

And, predictably, the soldier made an appearance. Loki looked up from his work with a drawn out sigh to address Steve.

"Time doesn't ever seem to be your strong suit, Rogers," he said.

"Yeah, well, neither does yours lately," Steve replied.

Loki may not have known the Avengers outside of trying to kill them for very long, but he recognized that tone of voice well enough. Taylor usually sounded like that right before she was about to tell him something she knew he wouldn't like. It was hard; it was stoic; it was the voice of authority. Unfortunately—or maybe fortunately—Loki had a feeling he knew what was coming.

"If you're going to lecture me about Taylor…" he began.

Steve held up a hand to stop him, taking a couple steps further into the library. He looked worried and a little haggard, in Loki's opinion, like the weight of the world rested solely on his ridiculously broad, serum-enhanced shoulders. Well, that wasn't wrong—in fact, he had the weight of the whole Nine Realms on his shoulders.

"She's an adult and she can make her own choices," Steve assured him, "and if she sees something in you…well, I trust her judgement."

"Something"? What did _that_ mean? Did Taylor see something worth loving? Worth saving? She was wrong if she did, and Steve was a fool to trust her for it. There wasn't any saving to be done in Loki's case. Everything he did still remained selfish. The only reason Loki hadn't defected to the thus-far winning side was because Taylor sided with the Avengers. If she…well, he didn't want to think about that, but if she did, he'd defect for the sake of survival. So no, there was nothing for her to save or fix.

"Look, whether you want to play the denial game or not, you two matter to each other. The fight today got nasty, and fast; we were lucky she had you by her side. Taylor's reckless once she gets a mission. She's younger than the rest of us, and hasn't been at the hero game for as long."

Loki frowned and pushed away from the table he was still hunched over, trying to figure out where this was going now that his initial assumption was wrong.

"I need you to keep an eye on her. We all watch out for each other, but Taylor could use one more person keeping an eye on her, especially since Sigyn has painted a target on her back. You only seem to care about Taylor, and that's fine, but if you do…mean it."

Loki's brow furrowed as he considered the implications of this—and the fact that even Steve Rogers realized he had more than a vague interest in Taylor.

"I will…try," Loki said finally, the words rolling around in his mouth.

"Good," Natasha said as she entered, "glad we got that off our chests. Any luck with raising Keziah?"

Glad to be focused on something that didn't cause Loki a massive headache and an awkward tightness in his stomach, he frowned at the page in front of him.

"None. These books are practically useless considering all that I need to know. Thor and I will have to appeal to Odin for access to anything that will help."

He really didn't want to ask any favors of Odin.

"Thor's nearly done in the medical ward. You two should get together and talk to Odin," Natasha informed him.

Loki nodded and got to his feet, brushing his hands of dust. He'd check in on Taylor before he went to Thor, make sure the spell he'd used to help with the pain was still working properly. She'd seemed troubled before he'd left—and before they'd kissed. If she wasn't asleep he'd…what? Make sure her mind was at ease, his brain supplied, although he wasn't sure just _how_ he'd do that.

"Right," Steve said, more to himself than anyone, "once you and Thor have spoken to Odin and get some information, we'll all meet and discuss our strategy. It's time we made a real plan of attack."


	14. Chapter 14

Everything was dark and cold, like Taylor was trapped beneath a heavy snowbank. An icy tendril of dread snaked itself around her heart and squeezed as a gut-wrenching scream echoed in the empty space around her. Then there were whispers, ghosts of words that were difficult to separate or discern, but the longer she hesitated, the louder and more insistent they became. With an almost painful tug in her heart, she recognized the voices of the other Avengers.

She called to them, trying to pinpoint where they were coming from, but it seemed as if they were everywhere. Her friends were in agony and the more she heard their cries the more desperate Taylor became to find them. Fear stole the breath from her lungs, froze the blood in her veins, as she realized her powers weren't responding to her. After all the time she'd spent wishing she'd never been born as she was, they abandoned her now?

"Taylor!"

She lashed out automatically even though her brain distantly registered that the voice was familiar and comforting. The person shouted, drew back. Another hand touched her, freezing cold, and she jerked, struggling harder to escape the dark.

"Taylor. It's just a dream. You're alright."

The voice was cool and calm, a beacon of light guiding her out of the blackness and Taylor clutched at it like a lifeline. When she blinked, she was staring up at the ceiling in her room in Asgard. It didn't take long for her brain to register the familiar scent of smoke, the sunlight just beginning to peak through the balcony windows. Her skin tingled with the feeling of her powers crackling at the surface.

Another nightmare. And the others saw.

Heart still hammering in her chest, Taylor's eyes focused on Loki leaning over her, brow furrowed, mouth quirked into a frown. He was clutching her hand, she realized, which was why she hadn't injured him in her sleep. Frost giant powers. But if she didn't hurt _him_ who did she…?

She bolted into a sitting position, eyes scanning her concerned friends until they landed on Steve, cradling his hand close to his abdomen. Tears stung her eyes as he tried to hide the wound but it was too late.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"It's no big deal," he said.

She shook her head, tucking her knees to her chest and shrinking away from Loki and the others. It had been years since she'd hurt someone accidentally. Why had they tried to wake her? She was _dangerous_. Didn't they know that by now? What if things had escalated and she'd…

"Hey."

She glanced at Bucky as he settled gingerly on the edge of the bed next to her. His eyes were gentle, understanding. Taylor knew he could more than empathize with her. The nightmares, the fear, the guilt, they were all things he had more than enough experience in. Still, she shied away when he held a hand out, palm up. It was the nonmetal one, the one she could injure, but he didn't relent.

"It's okay. Nightmares happen. We all understand," he said, "There's nothing wrong with you. You didn't lose control, see?"

He coaxed one of her hands from around her legs, smiling at her when she didn't burn him. She dissolved into tears then, pressing her face into his shoulder. Bucky glanced over her head at Loki, who didn't seem so much jealous as upset that he couldn't offer Taylor the same comfort. After a moment, she seemed to get herself under control and wiped at her eyes, pulling away with a watery smile.

"Thank you," she murmured.

He squeezed her arm gently before getting to his feet again. Taylor glanced at the rest of the group and realize, with relief, that only a few of the Avengers had witnessed her breakdown. Natasha was the only other person in the room with the friends Taylor had already seen.

"Come get some breakfast. You'll feel better if you eat something," she said.

Taylor nodded, accepting Loki's help in scooting off the bed and leaning into him as they walked to the dining hall. Apart from being an emotional wreck with a half-scorched bedroom, Taylor felt oddly…good. Sure, she was still kind of tired, but her injuries from the fight in Helheim had almost healed and Loki thought he had pinpointed the realm where Sigyn was trying to resurrect Keziah.

After she'd made herself a plate of food, the two settled on the steps, much like they had that first day in Asgard, except now she pressed her shoulder into his as they ate. By the time she was halfway through her meal, she was interacting as she usually did with the rest of the Avengers, and anyone that wasn't in the room with her this morning wouldn't have thought she'd had a nightmare at all.

It made Loki wonder how often they occurred. He remembered the night they'd gone to Greenland, how she'd appeared shaken in the kitchen, but he'd hardly noticed because he hadn't been as invested in her then as he was now. He didn't doubt that when she did have nightmares she didn't mention it to anyone, that she was very good at not saying anything at all.

"Stop staring," she said, "it's creepy. If you've got a question, just ask."

He almost did. He wanted to ask what haunted her in her dreams, what she kept from the others, and if it had anything to do with the scar in her eyebrow. If it had been a year ago, six months ago, almost any time before she'd come crashing into his life, he'd have asked without a second thought to her mental state. Things were different now, though. He had Steve Roger's words bouncing around in his skull.

"I'm not staring," he replied, "I just happened to be looking in your general direction while I was thinking."

She shot him an incredulous look, one eyebrow arching in a way that he vaguely thought was _his_ thing, but he was a little lost in playful smile on her lips. If he'd been concerned things would be awkward or uncomfortable between them after Steve had caught them kissing, it would have been in vain. When he'd gone back to visit her in the hospital, she'd gladly picked up where they'd left off and now Loki was perpetually attempting _not_ to stare at her mouth.

"Oh?" she asked, "And what were you thinking about, exactly?"

"Well…"

All heads turned to the doorway as Heimdall entered the room, his expression more grim than usual. He didn't usually leave his post unless the situation was serious and knowing this, Thor and Loki were immediately on their feet. His conversation with Taylor was immediately forgotten.

"What is it, Heimdall?" Thor asked.

He grimaced, golden eyes turning on Taylor with regret. She surged to her feet as well, knocking her plate over in the process. The staff was going to hate her for making a mess, and she spared a thought to apologize later, but she was more worried about why Heimdall was looking at her like that.

"I'm afraid…our enemies have captured your Midgardian family. They are with Sigyn now."

Taylor froze for a fraction of a second before she was bolting from the room, darting into the hallway and nearly overshooting her room. The rest of them were right on her heels, quickly changing into their uniforms. Steve was swiftly scraping together a plan as they rushed the trip to the rainbow bridge.

"It's Taylor she wants, so if you're up for it, Taylor, that's exactly what she'll get," he explained.

"Oh, I'm up for it," Taylor replied.

She was angry. Not so much because Sigyn has taken her family in the first place. They hadn't been good people and really, it served them right to be kidnapped a little. It was the fact that Taylor had to go save them, that she was forced into their orbit after being so happily separate from them that made her mad. And also, she owed Sigyn for the last fight.

She was going to get more of Taylor than she'd be able to handle.

The Bifrost dropped them in Svartelheim this time and Loki cast a spell to mask their presence as he led the way to the portal. The terrain was just as unforgiving and dismal as Taylor remembered it, but she found the grim landscape oddly matched her mood. Okay, so maybe the bits of gravel the wind was trying to hurl into her eyes wasn't appreciated; it wasn't like she'd never considered throwing rocks at people either.

"Taylor, you ready?" Clint asked.

There had been no joking or teasing or any of the usual pre-battle banter that the team usually indulged in to keep the mood light. They all understood the importance of this mission, even Loki, who didn't know the truth of Taylor's family like the others might have. Crappy as they might have been, they were still civilians in need of saving.

"Ready."

They entered at the same time, passing as a unit through the portal. The Avengers were greeted by a decrepit cylindrical tower like something out of a grim fairytale, complete with flashing storm clouds and dark atmosphere. Despite the pelting rain, torches burned on either side of the sole archway leading into the tower's interior. Taylor approached cautiously first, Loki right by her side until they reached the threshold of the door.

"There used to be a spell over this doorway, but it's been broken recently," he said.

He gestured to a rune carved into the stone at the peak of the arch, sporting a sizeable crack. There were a lot of cracks, Taylor thought as she glanced over the rest of the façade. The top half of the tower had collapsed entirely, while the bottom half didn't seem to be much better off.

"Guess this is where they imprisoned him in that story," she mused.

Behind them there was a terrific cracking sound, like the island of rock was splitting in half. A collection of bodies rose from the ground, not just fire giants, but clearly those from other dimensions as well. It didn't take more than a moment to realize they were dead. Or had once been dead?

Damn necromancy.

"I hate zombies!" Taylor grumbled.

The corpses immediately surged at the other Avengers, who'd hung back to take inventory of the area.

"Get out of here!" Steve shouted, "We'll be fine!"

Taylor was about to argue, worried about her friends against a battalion of the undead, but Loki urged her forward, through the doorway. All that greeted them was an ascending spiral staircase, lit intermittently by torches like the ones outside. It was unnaturally quiet, but Taylor didn't let that deter her as she quickly began up the steps.

"I hate stairs," she panted.

"Need a break?" Loki teased.

Taylor shot him a glare over her shoulder and nearly tripped up the next step. Damn old uneven architecture. It would be really pathetic if poor interior design was going to kick her ass.

"Why are you taking them two at a time?!" she demanded, "What are you trying to prove?!"

Nevertheless, she picked up the pace, muttering under her breath about gods with long legs.

When they reached what she thought had to be close to halfway, the staircase opened up into open air. She jerked back, confused that there was no visible floor beneath her feet. Below her, she could clearly see the other Avengers holding their own against the zombie minions. Loki nearly ran into Taylor's back at the sudden stop and peered over her shoulder to see what made her hesitate.

"It's a plane," he explained, "just an invisible floor."

She glanced at him dubiously over her shoulder, refusing to step across the surface.

"How far does it go?" she asked.

He glanced at the seemingly empty air directly in front of them with a grimace.

"I don't know."

Lovely. With a deep breath and high hopes that she wouldn't go splattering to an untimely death, Taylor charged through the opening, trying to gain her bearings without visible ground. Waiting on the other side of the opening to the stairs is a small legion of Sigyn's fire giant lackeys, Taylor's bound and gagged family, and Sigyn herself.

"Nice of you to finally join us," she called.

Taylor glared as Loki joined her at her side, her hands already beginning to heat up in preparation of a fight. Steve's orders were that Taylor specifically avoid direct contact with Sigyn, but that didn't mean she was any less inclined to punch the woman in the face. _Accidents happen_ , she could say to Steve and he'd roll his eyes, _sometimes there's no helping it_.

"Just focus on getting your family," Loki said.

She nodded, taking a few steps back before leaping the distance over the opening to the stairs, landing directly on one of the fire giants and taking it to the ground. If Sigyn tried to hex her or something of the sort, Loki put an end to it quickly, if her cursing was anything to go by.

Taylor worked steadily away from her family, lest they get injured in the melee, but it was difficult keeping an eye on them and fighting at the same time. The Avengers had taught her well, but there was only so much she could do at one time, and Loki had his hands full dealing with Sigyn. This plane only worked one way, so the others couldn't even see her struggling. She'd just have to make do.

A wayward spell crashed into one of the fire giants, sending it into Taylor and the two flying. The fire giant seemed to finally find the edge of the plane because it went plummeting down to the ground below. Taylor yelped as she skidded half over the edge, her bottom half hanging over nothingness as she scrabbled for purchase.

It was nearly impossible with the rain from the storm clouds. She should have noticed it sooner, but the water was pooling on the plane and spilling over the edges. It would help her spot where the boundaries of the invisible floor were. If she didn't fall off now, of course.

"Shit, shit, shit," she gasped.

One of the fire giant's approached, apparently planning to kick her off the ledge, but she grabbed a hold of its leg and used the leverage to boost herself off at the same time it went lurching to the ground below. She was far from winning the battle, she realized when she saw the half dozen more minions approaching her. Loki seemed to be in a tight spot and Taylor needed space between her and the edge, so she sprinted the space and punched Sigyn across the face just as she was turning.

"In your face!" Taylor shouted.

Loki got to his feet and touched her shoulder in thanks as Sigyn picked herself up, touching her bleeding nose in outrage. Taylor thought she didn't look too pleased at being punched, but Taylor wasn't too pleased about the whole situation, so she figured this made them at least a little even.

"You think you two can defeat me?" she said, "Your friends are—"

"Right here."

And she blew up. Well, Tony blew her up…and she wasn't quite "blown up" but blasted by one of his hand beams. It was disappointing for Taylor too, but satisfying nonetheless. Below them, the mirage Avengers disappeared, Loki finally breaking the spell. The rest of the fire giants were quickly taken care of by the _real_ Avengers. Sigyn, quickly realizing that she was outnumbered, disappeared with a sneer, leaving Taylor's family behind.

She immediately went and began untying her father, while Natasha and Clint released her brother and step-mother. They hauled the three to their feet just as the tower began shuddering beneath them. Through the invisible floor, Taylor could see the stone blocks separating crumbling, colliding with each other on the way down.

"Whatever magic was holding this place together is fading. We need to leave," Loki said.

The ones that could fly—or jump in the Hulk's case—quickly grabbed those that couldn't and took them through the portal as the structure crumpled. They landed in Svartalheim in tangles of limbs and bodies, but Taylor was a little surprised to find that they'd all gotten through relatively unscathed.

The team hugged and shouted in celebration for a successful and non-life-threatening mission, gigantic smiles plastered on their faces. Taylor practically launched into Loki's arms, her bad mood forgotten in the face of their triumph. When she pulls away, they both have to repress the urge to kiss in front of Heimdall and everyone, but thankfully Thor makes it easy by reminding them that need to return to Asgard.

Taylor notices her step-mother's mutinous look at the instruction to hold onto someone, but she's smart enough to keep her mouth shut as the Bifrost sends down its golden beam of light. The adrenaline of winning the battle mixed with the usual rush of interdimensional travel, and by the time their feet were touching solid ground, Taylor was giggling.

The return to the palace didn't take long, but the closer they got, the more her joy faded as she realized she'd have to speak to her family. Someone needed to explain everything to them and it would be best coming from someone familiar. A few of the staff led the rest of the Cadences to a room in the palace while Taylor hung back with the rest of the team to unwind for a moment in one of the common rooms.

"Alright, I have to go talk to them," she sighed.

This coming after having a sip of Thor's magical Asgardian tequila. He insisted it wasn't tequila, but she figured if he wasn't going to tell her the proper name for it, she could call it whatever she wanted. Thus—Asgardian tequila.

"Want us to come with you as some extra muscle?" Clint asked.

He flexed for show, and to her it was comical but Taylor realized that to anyone else it might be intimidating. None of the Avengers were anything to sneeze at, as nice and friendly as she knew they were. Brandy and Kyle had already proven they had little tolerance for people different from them. Heroes or no, Taylor was sure their presence wouldn't go over well.

"Nah, it's alright. I got all the muscle I need," she answered.

She flexed as well, mimicking him and drawing a laugh from the rest of the group as Tony slung an arm around her shoulders. He was probably a little buzzed, but Tony was such a happy drunk, and Taylor figured after everything recently he deserved to lose himself for a little while. It wasn't her job to police anyone's alcohol intake but her own. And maybe her brother's as long as he was in Asgard.

"Did you see Taylor today? She can handle anything," he said, before leaning close by her ear, "but seriously, I can remotely control one of the suits to go with you."

She shoved him off playfully, rolling her eyes. Truly, their concern was heartwarming, but this was a conversation that was admittedly long overdue and it needed to be had alone. They'd babied her long enough, she was sure. Time to hike up her big kid undies and face her past.

"I'll be fine, you guys," she said, "It's no big deal."

She was a little liar but no one called her out on it as she casually left the room, headed in the direction of her family's room. No, not her family, she reminded herself. Family wasn't supposed to treat her the way they had. Family was comforting her after nightmares, even when she burned them. Family was accepting her quirks and her insecurities and accommodating her when she couldn't get through her own mental obstacles. Family was the Avengers.

Taylor knocked twice, loudly. She was almost relieved when it was her father that called her in. As she entered, he was sitting in one of the chairs in front of the fire, but when he saw her, he shot to his feet immediately. He looked so much older than when she'd last seen him. His hair was so much grayer, the lines of his face deeper, and his eyes were sad. He looked…haggard.

"Taylor, my god. You've grown up so much," he said.

Kyle and Brandy were nowhere to be seen, but from the retching sounds coming from the bathroom, her brother was probably growing through withdrawal. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, ignoring the tangles she caught on the way.

"Yeah, it's been…four years? Five? It's been a long time," she replied.

He moved as if to hug her but she took a step back warily. The thing was, he'd never hit her. In fact, her father had done the best he could, but Taylor couldn't be near him. He'd let Brandy into their home, let Kyle drink, and left Taylor to deal with it all on her own.

"What's going on? Who was that woman and what did she want?" he asked.

Well at least he wasn't trying for a touching moment of familial reconnection. Taylor didn't think she'd be able to handle that. Not yet; maybe not ever. But this, business, this she could handle. More or less. She began explaining, hedging the story a little so that he'd be able to comprehend it and because some things were confidential.

She was so caught up in explaining that she didn't notice the sound of rushing water, signaling that her brother was undoubtedly washing up. Brandy appeared a moment later and as soon as she laid eyes on Taylor, a flip switched.

"This is all _your_ fault. This is all because of you, you _freak_!"

She stormed across the room, and Taylor totally should have seen it coming but she was honestly a bit surprised when the slap came. Her cheek stung, eyes watering at how it smarted. She hadn't been slapped a lot. Punched, kicked, _stabbed_ , sure, it was part of the job, but getting slapped wasn't quite normal.

Then all hell broke loose.

Well, Loki broke loose. From the wall. Where he'd been invisible—because _apparently_ it was make-everything-invisible-on-Taylor-day—and he nearly launched on Brandy. Luckily, with the way Taylor's head snapped to the side, she saw him just in time and jumped in the line of fire—or frost, in this case.

"Loki, wait!"

His eyes were blazing with an anger she hadn't seen in him before. Something feral and protective and oddly intoxicating but also terrifying because Loki wasn't someone to be trifled with even on a _good_ day. He nearly plowed right over her but thankfully stopped when he realized she wasn't going to relent.

"You can't hurt them; it won't help!" she said.

He shot her a look of disbelief, his next words hissed between his teeth.

"Why are you protecting them?"

Somehow she didn't feel the urge to shrink away. Maybe it was because she'd spent so much of her time _not_ being intimidated by him, or maybe because they'd become so close she knew he wouldn't hurt her intentionally. Angry as he was, he wouldn't turn it on her.

"Because it would make us as bad as them," she replied.

That clearly wasn't a very valid reason to leave the Cadences in peace, considering he tried to move around her and she quickly had to grab onto his arm, pushing him back.

"Loki, c'mon, they're just stupid and scared. We should leave," she pleaded.

He clenched his jaw but finally relented, turning on his heel and storming from the room as Taylor quickly followed. Her room wasn't far from theirs, and she was a little surprised when he went there instead of continuing down the hallway, barging right through the door. She closed the door quietly behind her, but as soon as the latch clicked, he spun on her.

There was still uncomfortable heat in one cheek, and Taylor had no doubt there was an angry red mark glowing on her skin. Loki's eyes burned as he carefully guided her head to the side, inspecting it with a nearly murderous expression.

"I'm alright," she nearly whispered.

"Tell me."

She blinked at him uncomprehendingly. Had Brandy knocked something loose in her head? Did she just hear him right? Loki couldn't be asking what her mind immediately assumed he was asking about.

"What?" she asked.

"Tell me. Tell me what they did to you," he said.

Her breath caught in her chest at his demand. Taylor had never told anyone about what had happened in her childhood, even the times she'd wanted to. How was she supposed to tell him everything? What would he think of her when she did?

"I—it doesn't matter now. That was a long time ago," she answered.

It was weak and they both knew it. Her stomach sank as he took her shoulders in his hands, gentle but firm. If Taylor was inclined, she could have broken the hold and run from him, from her past as she always had. No one could really blame her if she did.

"It matters now, I don't care how long ago it happened," he insisted, "tell me."

She didn't pull away. She didn't want to run and hide in shame of her past anymore. If anyone would understand— _could_ understand at all—it was probably Loki. And in a strange, roundabout way, she wanted to reveal all to him. It wasn't as if she'd thought she could hide it from him forever, after all. Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she told him everything.


End file.
